Uncertain Fates
by Jedi Knight247
Summary: AU. It has been decided: Faramir is to be executed...but can he still be saved? Rated for strong angst and violence. R&R.
1. The wedding aftermath

_**A/N: **As you will notice i made up some of my own bits of history-only because it's needed, but i have a warning for all of you Denethor fans: do NOT read this story, if so, the consider yourselves warned. :)_

**Uncertain Fates**

**Chapter One: The wedding Aftermath**

It had now been a day since Boromir, son of Denethor the steward of Gondor, and lady Eowyn, sister-daughter of Théoden lord of the mark had said their wedding vows and had been pronounced husband and wife. Faramir had come to Minas Tirith to be there for his brothers wedding, for he was currently in Osgiliath, fighting the ever menacing orcs. But all was not right, as Faramir knew all too well. It was the sixth hour in the morning, and Boromir had come into Faramir's room, for he desperately needed to talk to someone.

"I cannot believe that I let father convince me to go through with this!" Boromir exclaimed.

"You did what was best, brother; or it could have jeopardized the new peace," Faramir said, trying to soothe his hot-tempered brother.

What he was referring to was a new peace treaty that had been agreed between Théoden and Denethor. The two lords had had a feud, which had caused great tension between the two lands. But they finally had agreed to resolve their differences after a large fleet of orcs had arrived in Osgiliath, outnumbering the small number of soldiers that were there. Gondor called upon Rohan for aid, and thus they agreed to resolve their differences. And as a token of their agreement, it was agreed that Denethor's eldest son, Boromir, and Théoden having no daughter, agreed that his niece Eowyn would marry Boromir. And so they only had the chance of meeting once before they became husband and wife.

"You are not the one who has been bound to a woman that you had previously only met once!"

Faramir sighed, knowing that his brother was right; chances were he wouldn't feel the same way if _he_ were in Boromir's boots.

000

The man was clearly shaken as he stood before Denethor.

"They drove back our forces, scattering the men, and then hunting them down as though they were wild beasts, and then they killed them. I am lucky that I escaped with my head! For there are few others that survived; they took us by surprise lord. Although I am sure that their numbers were not half as great as ours; after I escaped, they left soon after, and I watched as they set their course for the Harad road; I never did see them clearly, but I do recall that they looked like dark shadows passing down the road. After seeing those things, I came here at once, although I was weary and wounded."

Denethor said nothing, as he fingered his white rod in thought. Who could have done this? It was most likely the Haradrim; after all, they were traveling the Harad road. But nonetheless, this enemy had to be tracked down and defeated; they had killed almost two hundred of his men!

"I thank you for the information that you have provided, you shall stay here in Minas Tirith in the houses of healing until you have been healed, body and mind, you may now leave me," said Denethor.

When the man left, his mind was hard at work. He could not have these Haradrim or whoever they may be, roaming freely through Gondor, killing scores of men as they go. He would need to send someone with and a small army to combat these men. Although it was likely that very few would return, if any, and then it struck him; he knew exactly who he would send: Faramir. He turned to one of the guards and said:

"Send for Faramir immediately."


	2. Trapped in a cage

"You asked to see me my lord," said Faramir, as he stood before Denethor in the beautiful hall.

"Yes; there has been an ambush near the Harad road, killing nearly two hundred of our good soldiers," said Denethor coldly.

"What would you have me do my lord?" asked Faramir softly, although he tried not to let it show, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable in his fathers presence. How could one as though all was normal when one knew that they weren't wanted?

"I would have you go to south Ithilien, find these men and kill them," Denethor said, "but of course since we are already short of men, concerning the orc's resistance at Osgiliath, we can only spare but a few, say…fifteen?"

"But that is too few my lord we would not stand a chance against their army!" said Faramir, he couldn't believe what he was hearing: fifteen men against an army of men that were most likely the Haradrim, it was like walking into a death trap!

"Do not raise your voice at me! I know what is best! You will take fifteen rangers with you, and you will kill these ruthless murderers. Do you understand me?"

"My lord, it is very likely that they are now in Harad," said Faramir.

"Well it is worth the try, do not disappoint me."

"Do you mean to send me into a death trap my lord?" Faramir asked.

Denethor looked at Faramir coldly and expressionless, "So you would shirk away from your duty?"

"Never my lord; I will serve Gondor even unto my death."

"Good; then fulfill your duty. You shall set out at noon, kill them all, and leave none alive."

"As you wish my lord," said Faramir.

"Go. Leave me," said Denethor.

So Faramir left with a heavy heart; he knew that his father had meant to send him straight into a death trap, but nonetheless, he would not shirk away from his duty as some might have. Even though he knew that it would probably be the last day that he saw, he intended to fulfill his duty until he breathed his last breath.

000

The lady Eowyn tossed and turned as she slept in her bed. She had not been able to sleep that night considering what had just happened the night before: she had been forced to marry a man that she had only met once, and obviously did not know him well enough, and most importantly, she did not love him; she had been cold as stone towards him when they had first met and she was also the same way on their wedding day. She had begged her uncle not to do it-she had begged him not to force her to marry this man that she did not know, but he seemed so bent on giving her to Denethor son as a token of their new treaty. She was furious that this matter had already been decided without her consent, and that her very uncle, the one that was like a father to her, had sealed her doom.

Now she would feel as though she was in a cage-imprisoned to be married to a man that she didn't love.

Her brother Eomer, and her cousin Theodred had come to her wedding, but King Théoden did not go; as of late he had become weaker and weaker, and had eventually fallen ill. Not long before she had left for Minas Tirith, his creepy advisor Grima had just returned from an unknown errand; he was unhappy with her departure, for he had secretly hoped one day to have her for himself, and her brother Eomer knew this and always seemed to keep a very close and suspicious eye on Wormtongue, especially when lady Eowyn was around.

And so Eowyn lay in her bed, tossing and turning, unable to rest.

And then suddenly, she felt a cool wet cloth on her forehead, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into the face of her faithful handmaid, Norah.

Upon leaving, Eowyn had been permitted to bring one of the household servants with her to Minas Tirith, so she chose Norah. The two were very close, so close in fact that she was like a sister to Eowyn, and was hardly treated as a servant, which was quite uncommon.

"What troubles you my lady?" Norah asked softly. Her long, beautiful chestnut hair hung down her shoulders as she gently dabbed Eowyn's sweating face with a wet cloth.

"Did I cry out?" Eowyn asked, hoping that no one else heard her if she had.

"Something of the sort my lady and you were also tossing and turning as if you were in

Some kind of dark dream," she said.

"I cannot live like this Norah; I feel as though I am in a cage-I am doomed to stay married to a man that I do not love!"

"There was nothing else that could be done my lady, and I know that you are strong and I know that you will find a way to endure this."

"Endure this! Endure this misery! I do not wish to lay my eyes upon this _Boromir_ again," she spat.

"Oh, that reminds me my lady, you have been summoned to have your break of fast with lord Denethor and lord Boromir also."

Eowyn groaned; she could not believe that she had been doomed to the very thing that she had feared-being in a cage. But nonetheless, she composed herself.

"Tell them that I shall meet them in half an hour," she said as calmly as she could manage.


	3. Meeting Faramir

_**A/N**: Thanks for all the kind reviews guys! I hope ya'll enjoy this chapter :D_

It was halfway through the seventh hour when the lady Eowyn entered the large hall; she wished that she could turn around and run all the way back to her home-Rohan, the only comfort she had was that her brother Eomer, and her cousin Theodred had not yet departed. As she advanced further into the hall, a guard approached her; he had black hair and sparkling blue eyes which seemed to be smiling, but his face was expressionless.

"Lord Denethor and lord Boromir are waiting for you my lady; I will take you to them."

Eowyn slightly nodded; this was the last place that she wanted to be, but she kept her composure and followed the guard.

000

Boromir looked at his father uneasily; something was definitely wrong. He had not seen or spoken to Faramir since he had been summoned by Denethor. And normally, he would have his break of fast with them also, but he had yet to show up. Finally, Boromir could not stand it anymore; he had to find out what was wrong.

"Father, I can't help but wonder why Faramir is not here; he usually has his break of fast with us."

"I knew that you would ask me that question sooner or later," Denethor said dryly. "He is preparing to set off on an errand."

"What kind of errand?" Boromir asked curiously.

"Such matters can be discussed at a later hour," said Denethor.

Boromir was about to say something else but when he looked up he saw that lady Eowyn had just entered the room. There was now an uncomfortable silence.

Denethor stood up, "Come, let me look at you," he said.

Boromir almost cringed; his father had a way of making uncomfortable situations worse.

Eowyn slowly approached Denethor, her face was expressionless and cold as stone; Denethor lifted her chin and seemed to observe her features. Eowyn wanted to slap him.

Eventually, Denethor removed his hand and sat back down across from his son.

"Come, eat; surely you must be hungry," he said, ushering her to sit next to Boromir.

While they ate their break of fast they were silent, Eowyn did not so much as even glance at Boromir. She was mortified to think that her future had already been decided for her-this man was her husband-and she did not love him.

000

After that dreadful break of fast, Eowyn retreated back to her chambers and confided in her handmaid.

"I do not wish to ever see the two of them again! I shall starve up here in my chambers if I must!"

"Do not speak like that my lady; I assure you that things will get better."

"They will not; they will only get worse!" Eowyn moaned.

"My lady, may I suggest something?" Norah asked; she had an idea and she hoped that it would make Eowyn feel better-even if was just for a little while.

"Yes, you may," Eowyn said.

"I suggest that you visit the stables; for though there are not many horses in this city, I think that you will still find a little joy there."

Eowyn's face brightened a little, "Thank you Norah; I did not think of that. Would you care to come with me?"

"I would love to, but I must get acquainted with the servants here; but I hope that it will lift your spirits."

000

Eowyn soon found the stables, and as soon as she entered, she spotted her beautiful horse, Windfola. The beautiful grey horse seemed to recognize her also. As she tended to her horse, wishing that she could ride him out of this city and back to her home, a voice jolted her out of her thoughts.

"He is a very beautiful horse my lady," commented someone.

Eowyn could obviously recognize that it was a mans voice, she turned to her right and saw a copper-haired young man standing only a few feet away from her; she vaguely recognized him, she was sure that she had seen him at her wedding, but she mostly kept to herself that day so she was not certain who he was.

"Thank you; I have ridden him for as long as I can remember," she said.

The young copper-haired man walked closer to her. "I am certain that you will be able to ride him again my lady," he said softly.

Eowyn smiled lightly. "I doubt that very much; he is used to running freely on seemingly endless fields…" Eowyn's voice trailed off.

"I understand, you miss your home; do you not?" he asked.

"Yes; very much indeed," she said. After those words escaped her lips, she regretted saying them for she did not know this man.

"My brother is a good man my lady, and I am sure that you will eventually be happy here."

"_His brother?" _Eowyn thought, and then she remembered her uncle Théoden telling her that Boromir also had a brother by the name of Faramir.

By the look on her face, Faramir figured that she did not recognize him, "I see that you did not recognize me my lady," he laughed.

For the first time in a long while, Eowyn laughed, she knew that Norah was right; she was feeling better.


	4. Into deaths snare

_**A/N:** Sorry for not updating sooner; I'm trying to work on making the chapters longer, anyway enjoy:-)_

Time seemed to fly by as they talked in the stables; Eowyn hadn't smiled this much in a long while, a raven haired young man entered the stables. His hazel eyes seemed grim, and out of reverence he dipped his head once he realized that he was in the presence of lady Eowyn, the captain of Gondor's wife.

He once again turned his gaze to Faramir.

"We must make haste to leave now, my lord," he said.

"Lord Denethor ordered me to leave at noon," Faramir replied.

"No, my lord; I have come straight from lord Denethor; he demands that you take leave of this city immediately."

Faramir was puzzled at Denethor's sudden change of mind, but nonetheless he composed himself, "Very well; Darcyn gather the rest of the men, we shall meet on the first level."

"Yes my lord," said the Ranger."

When Darcyn left, Faramir began to saddle his horse, Denrolth. A look of sadness was on his face-sadness, and determination. To Eowyn he now seemed as one going to their death.

"I will be sure to see you again my lady if I am to return," he said turning to look at her.

Eowyn walked closer to Faramir and his horse, "I wish that we could have had more time to get to know each other," she said, smiling faintly.

"I am sure that you will be happy here my lady," he said.

Eowyn looked down, "I am not so certain of that my lord."

Faramir had now saddled Denrolth; in his heart he knew that he would never see his brother or his sister in-law again.

Nonetheless he placed a comforting kiss on her pale cheek, "Until we meet again my lady," he said softly.

Eowyn stood and watched as Faramir led the beautiful gray horse, Denrolth out of the stables; she hoped that all would be well with him on his journey. Little did she know how perilous it would really be.

000

Norah had managed to get acquainted with nearly all of the household servants; she was returning to her small quarters when she accidentally bumped into someone; she looked up and found herself staring into the face of Boromir.

"I am sorry my lord," she said, backing away and bowing her head in shame, "I should have paid more attention to where I was going."

"It is alright, it was just a small accident," he said kindly.

Norah lifted her head, and Boromir found himself staring into soft yet deep blue eyes, although for some reason she would never fully hold his gaze. A look of shame was still on her fair face.

"Do you by chance know where I can find lady Eowyn?" Boromir asked, changing the subject.

"Yes my lord, I believe that she is in the stables," said Norah.

"Thank you," Boromir said, not knowing what to call her for he did not know her name.

Norah watched as he walked down the hall; she couldn't help feeling sorry for him for she was sure that he was not as bad as Eowyn had stated, after all wasn't _he _also forced into marrying _her_?

That was a large part of the reason why she could not look into his eyes; she pitied Eowyn, but it was not Boromir's fault.

000

Faramir had soon met up with his men, and they had ridden out of Minas Tirith in silence. None had dared to ask how lord Denethor could be so cruel as to only send sixteen men out to kill possibly an army-how could he so carelessly send them their death?

There was no denying that these Rangers loved Gondor, they would willingly die for her; that was the reason why none of them had deserted the mission. But to die in honor was one thing, to die needlessly was another; they all knew very well that lord Denethor could have spared more men, it was obvious that this was just an act of cruelty; finally Medwyn, who was riding along-side Faramir spoke up.

"My lord, do you not think that sixteen men are too few?" He asked.

Medwyn and Faramir had become very close friends, for although Faramir felt that he could talk to his brother he glad that he could also talk to Medwyn; Medwyn was not afraid to speak up and say some things that others felt were true but were afraid to say so. He knew that Denethor saw Faramir as the _lesser _son, and it angered him for Faramir had as much honor and integrity as his older brother Boromir.

But he had given up on trying to understand what the steward of Gondor was thinking, for he had become more and more recluse as the months and years progressed, and he seemed colder, and had aged decisively.

Faramir bowed his head, "I do not know," he said in a low voice.

"My lord you know what I am saying to be true," replied the dark-haired young man, his hazel eyes seemed as though they had been set aflame.

Although Faramir knew what the odds were, he was determined not to give up; if he gave up, who would keep the already sinking morale of the men up?

"We cannot give up Medwyn, no matter how impossible this task seems."

It was no coming up to evening time and the rest of the ride had been silent. They soon arrived in south Ithilien. But when they arrived reality _really_ began to sink in: there was no way that they could track down this army with so few men, despite the fact of how good they were in following tracks.

The men were all exhausted from the long ride, for they only took a few minutes break before setting out again, because Faramir knew that it was likely that if the army had not yet journeyed into Harad at that time that there was still a possibility that they may be gone by the time they reached the Harad road.

Faramir had sent Bard, who was Medwyn's younger brother along with Liran, Caleb, and Levi to scout the area; when they returned they saw no sign of the enemy. But still there was no guarantee that the enemy wasn't lurking in the shadows, waiting to catch them off of their guard.

But nonetheless, they had to rest, for they needed to be refreshed so that they could hunt down their so far, unseen enemy.

So it was decided that two men each would take turns keeping watch whilst the others slept. The first pairing was Medwyn and his older brother Marwyn.

They had set up a temporary camp near the Harad road, so that they could keep watch, just in case the army had not yet passed by; there had been no campfire lit for they did not want their presence to be known to the enemy, for they knew that their best chance was to take them by surprise.

As Faramir lay down to go to sleep, his mind wandered back home to Minas Tirith; he hoped that lady Eowyn, now his sister in-law would find some way to make peace with her new life, although he knew that it wouldn't be easy. He also hoped that his brother would find a way to make peace with things also; he continued to dwell on those thoughts until he finally drifted into a dreamless sleep.

000

Earlier that day, as Faramir was just setting out with his fellow Rangers, on a seemingly impossible task, Boromir had made his way to the stables in hopes of finding his new wife-lady Eowyn.

And he was in luck; there she was tending her beautiful grey horse, Windfola. Boromir felt as though he was intruding, and he began to think that it was a bad idea.

As Eowyn tended her beloved horse, she heard someone enter the stables; she did not want to look up for fear of whom it might be.

But nonetheless, she seemed to conquer her fear in an instant, and when she looked up, she found herself looking into the eyes of her husband; she held his gaze, and her eyes looked cold, but he could also see sadness in her eyes, and now more than ever, he wished that he had never come.

"May I have a moment with you, my lady?" he asked.

"Yes my lord, you may," she said stiffly.

Boromir now walked closer to her. Eowyn wished that she could turn into a bird and fly away.

"We are to dine with Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, and his daughter, lady Lorithiel; I felt that I should bring this important visitation to your attention my lady," he said.

"Thank you bringing it to my attention, it was very considerate of you to do so, my lord," she replied, stiffly.

Boromir did not know how to read lady Eowyn. He had been told by his father that she was a kind bubbly and gentle woman, but when he finally did meet her she was cold as stone! But could, in a way understand why she was so cold towards him, for he did not wish to be bound to a woman that he did not love.

Eowyn watched as he left, _"Good riddance! I do not wish to see him again!"_ she thought to herself, she did not even realize at that moment that tears were running down her cheeks-tears of anger.

000

Faramir was suddenly awakened; the sky was now dark: it was a starless night. Faramir opened his eyes to find Elendur shaking him violently; when the chestnut haired Ranger realized that Faramir was awake, he stopped shaking him.

"What is it Elendur?" Faramir asked, sleepily.

"There is no time to explain properly, my lord; the camp has come under attack!"

Now Faramir could hear it; the sound of harsh voices-unfamiliar voices. He could also hear the sound of someone being beaten.

He sat up immediately and reached for his sword. But Elendur stopped him.

"My lord, we have gone unnoticed-for now; we cannot walk into a death trap: we are greatly outnumbered; you must stay here until an opportunity comes for you to escape!"

"I will not escape and leave my men to be captured; if they are to die, then I will die with them. But I want you to take the opportunity and run! Run as far away as you can and when to return to Minas Tirith: tell Boromir and lord Denethor that I love them."

Elendur put his hand on Faramir's shoulder. "If my captain is to walk into deaths snare, I will follow him. If _you_ are to die then I shall die with you."

And so they both took their swords, knowing that it could be the last time that they held them, and they fearlessly ran into deaths snare.


	5. Into captivity

_**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews :-) I hope that you guys enjoy this chapter:D_

That evening, as Eowyn was getting ready for the important dinner, she talked to her maid, Norah about the days events.

"I truly wished at that moment that I would have turned into a bird and flown away; I cannot bear to be near him!" she exclaimed.

"Please do not speak such things my lady," said Norah as she brushed Eowyn's beautiful golden mane.

"I simply cannot help myself; I _detest_ him, but it is selfish of me to spread my dark cloud over your day. Speaking of which, how was your day?"

Norah told herself that she would not tell lady Eowyn her true opinion of Boromir, so she decided to leave part of her day out.

"Well my lady, I spent most of my time getting acquainted with the rest of the servants, and I was also shown my other duties,"

"That does not sound so bad," Eowyn said. A part of her wished that she could switch places with Norah, for she was not bound to a lifetime of unhappiness.

"But I saw the strangest thing my lady; an elfin servant dwells here," she said.

"That is strange indeed," said Eowyn.

Norah had just finished braiding the front sections of Eowyn's hair; she now pulled it back and fastened it with a golden clasp.

"You are ready now my lady and you look beautiful," complimented Norah.

000

Later that evening the five of them were seated together at a decisively large table: Boromir and Eowyn sat together on one side, and Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth and his daughter Lorithiel were seated together on the other, whilst Denethor sat at the head of the table.

Eowyn did not pay much attention as they discussed the amount of soldiers that were needed in Osgiliath; she paid no attention to Boromir, her husband who was sitting right next to her. She couldn't wait for the dreaded meal to end so that she could retreat back to her chambers, but she composed herself the best way that she could, although her face was as cold as stone and she did not speak a single word.

000

Faramir and Elendur _were_ greatly outnumbered, and they didn't stand a chance against what seemed to be at least one hundred and fifty men.

It all seemed to happen so fast to Faramir, it was so dark that he could not see their faces, but he saw the men draw their swords and before he knew it, they were charging towards them.

He fought them the best that he could-but there were so many; suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his side, and then all went black.

When Faramir awoke, the sun had not yet risen, he was bound by strong ropes around his wrists, he was a tent of some sort. When he tried to move he felt a terrible pain in his side-the same pain that he had felt the night before, but he did his best to ignore the pain for he had to try to find a way out. Just then, he heard voices outside of the tent, he tried to listen to see if he could understand what they were saying but he soon realized that it was not the common tongue which they were speaking, to him it sounded like they were speaking--elvish.

He only knew a few words of that language, for Mithrandir had once taught him a few words, and he had not forgotten them.

The tent flap lifted, and it seemed to Faramir that a tall man walked in, he had jet black hair and blue eyes, he walked over to Faramir and when he saw that he was awake, he called out something in elfish, and two more men came in. They grabbed him roughly and supported him as he struggled to stand, as he examined, he could now see their pointed ears, they were in fact-elves!

Two of the elves took a hold of his upper arms and almost dragged him out; once they were outside of the tent Faramir saw a large campfire that had been doused, they dragged him past this, and after a few more yards of walking, they stopped and dropped him to his knees. As Faramir raised his eyes, he saw two boots standing before him, and as he looked further up he found himself staring into the face of a male elf. His hair was raven black and his brown eyes gazed intently at Faramir.

"Ah, I see that you have awakened," he said coldly.

"Who are you and what do you want with us?" Faramir asked. He was concerned for his men for he did not know if any of them had been badly wounded.

The elf laughed, "You are not to inquire of me; _you_ are the captive not I."

"Do you not know who you are speaking to?" Faramir asked, for although he may have been a captive, he had not forgotten who he was.

"Yes, I do know who I speak to-a spying Ranger," he said.

At that moment, a beautiful elfin woman approached them, her hair was also raven, just like the elf that was standing before him, and she slightly resembled him.

"Faelivrin says that the prisoners are unwilling to talk; he sent me to ask for your orders," she said.

"I shall see to it myself," he said, turning to the three elves that stood next to Faramir. "Fingolfin, Aaralyn; stay and guard the prisoner. Enderlin, come with me."

000

Medwyn sat propped against a tree, his older brother Marwyn sat propped against a tree to his left. They could not escape-it would be useless to try for there were elfin guards watching their every move.

They had both been beaten badly when the elves ambushed their camp; but Medwyn had been beaten more severely than Marwyn.

He knew that he had a sizeable cut on his left shoulder and on top of that he had bruises, scratches, and minor cuts all over his body. The wound on his shoulder had been roughly bandaged with some rags, and he had been given a bad tasting medical potion which made him want to vomit.

And because they had refused to provide these cruel elves with the information that they desired, they had been beaten again. Marwyn had been beaten to the point of unconsciousness; he had only just been awake now for half of an hour.

While Medwyn dwelt on these thoughts, a tall raven-haired elf emerged from the trees that Medwyn and Marwyn were facing, with him was a blond elf that was about the same height as the raven haired elf.

Medwyn closed his eyes for he in truth was a little frightened of what was going to happen next.

The raven-haired elf walked over to Marwyn, the blond elf stood close by.

"So _Ranger_, you intent upon keeping your mouth shut and not answering our questions? You are a foolish man for you know not whom you speak to," and after saying those words he kicked Marwyn in the face.

The red-haired Ranger cried out in pain as the merciless elf kicked him. If it had been his goal to cause Medwyn to bleed, he surely achieved it: blood spilled from his nose, and some began to seep out of his mouth.

"You cruel creature, you shall pay for this!" Medwyn cried, letting his anger get the best of him; to him this elfin man seemed as though his heart was made of stone.

The elfin man turned to face him, "You should be more cautious with your words, for with the signal of a finger I could have you killed."

000

An hour had gone by and at last the sun was beginning to shed some of her light. Faramir had been closely guarded by the two elves; the elfin woman had left not long after the one who seemed to be the leader had departed.

Faramir had been given a little water and a little more than a morsel of hard bread, and he guessed that that was to be his break of fast; he wished to know how his men were doing, he hoped that they were doing better than him for he cared more about their safety then his own. After all, he was their captain.

He hoped that at least a few of his men could escape, for he knew that there was a large chance that some of them would die in captivity.

"_Are they dead?"_ he asked himself, worry and anxiety was beginning to set in; not for himself, but for his fellow Rangers.

He could not shake that question from his mind for he knew that they could very well be—dead.


	6. A pricked conscience

_**A/N: **Sorry for taking a little while to update, but heres chappy six! I hope that ya'll enjoy it!_

_**NOTE:** By the way I accept anonymous reviews, so feel free to R&R to tell me what you think :-D_

_**000**_

Faramir had been forced to stay put for the two elves that stood guard watched him closely and intently.

Soon, the assumed leader came back, but the elf that had left with him was nowhere to be seen.

"Has the Ranger attempted toescape?" he asked one of his fellow elves.

"No, we have made sure of it," was their reply.

"Good," he said, now turning his attention to Faramir he said, "So are you ready to speak and tell us of your business here?"

"No; I owe you no explanation," Faramir replied bitterly.

"Oh but you do _prisoner_," he spat. "If you knew what has happened to your fellow Rangers you would be less hasty to respond to me in your sarcastic manner."

The elf all but laughed when he saw Faramir struggle to his feet. Faramir now stood to his feet and almost looked the elf squarely in the eye.

"I care not who you are, I do not answer to you; my allegiance lies elsewhere."

"Ah, to Gondor," the elf said, eyeing Faramir's attire.

"Yes; to Gondor," said Faramir in an almost wistful voice. But when he had first stated that, he had not fully meant Gondor-he had also meant his father.

"You shall soon learn to do as I ask," the elf said with a harsh voice.

"I shall do no such thing," said Faramir, with authority in his voice although he was a prisoner, and at this elf's mercy.

"You should have thought twice before you opened your mouth," he said, nodding to one of the elves.

In less than a moment, they began to mercilessly punch him; he tried to fight but to no avail. The raven-haired elf turned to leave, but stopped to say one last thing:

"When you are done teaching him a _lesson_ you may take him to the other prisoners."

Faramir could do nothing but watch as the harsh, cruel elf walked away.

They continued beating him until blood began to show; they kicked him punched him, and broke off solid branches and beat him with them.

Faramir kicked and tried fight them, but they were very strong, it seemed that they had the strength of three men in one; they still continued to beat him as he groaned in pain, and blood began to spill out of his mouth.

At last it seemed that they were satisfied; the grass was stained with blood, only then when they stopped beating him did they realize how much damage they had done. His face was bloody; his hair had been matted with blood, not to mention the rest of his body. Knowing that their damage had already been done, they dragged the barely conscious captain of Gondor to join the rest of the captives.

000

The next day, Eowyn had decided to visit the stables again-she needed to clear her head. As she entered she heard voices-cheerful voices, she recognized these voices. They were those of her brother Eomer and their cousin Theodred.

They seemed to notice her presence almost immediately and before they spoke a word to her they embraced her in a much needed hug, for they knew that she was going through a hard time. Finally after they had embraced Eomer broke the silence.

"How are you sister? How is everything?" There was a genuine look of concern in his eyes, as he looked at his younger sister.

Eowyn put her head down; it was no secret that she was unhappy-she was sure that everyone including Boromir knew it.

"All is not well-how can it be?" she asked.

Theodred put a comforting arm around her, "We are here for you Eowyn," he said softly.

"I wish to return to Rohan with both of you," she said in a tone that they were not certain if it was just a wish or if she truly intended to do so.

"Eowyn, we know that this is hard for you but you cannot escape-you cannot run away from your husband!" Eomer said.

"Speak not of him!" Eowyn said in a cold voice.

"Eomer speaks the truth, you must not run away; but if I _did_ have the chance to liberate you from this unhappy life that has been forced on you, I would," said Theodred, looking into his cousins eyes.

He pitied her, for he could barely imagine what it would be like to be bound to a life that had been chosen for him. The Rohirrim were strong-willed, free spirited and brave people; in some sense they resembled an untamed horse, which are free spirited, strong willed-and of course very hard to tame.

Eomer soon began to tend to his beloved horse. Eowyn quietly whispered in Theodred's ear:

"Will you please help me?-help me escape, I am begging you!"

"I will try my best and see what I can do," he whispered back; his heart was too soft to leave her in a cage.

"I thank you with all of my heart," she whispered.

"Do not thank me yet-I have not yet even attempted," he said.

"Well I thank you nonetheless, you know not how much I thank you," she said, and a smile spread across her once saddened face.

Theodred grinned; he had not seen his cousin like this in a very long time, but then his gaze shifted to Eomer. There was no way that he could Eowyn escape without Eomer knowing it; that left him with only one option…he had to have a talk with Eomer.

000

Denethor had sent for Boromir to come to his chambers at once, and in what seemed like an instant he had come.

"Yes my lord," said Boromir.

His mind had been torn in two-he was worried about his brother for his father was acting strangely and he did not know where Faramir was, which was unusual, and then there was his wife, Eowyn. She was no doubt a very beautiful woman, but he had almost come under the impression that she never showed any emotion, he did not want to approach her or say anything to her for the matter-not because he didn't like her, for he did not know her but because she was as cold as stone, and always had that expressionless, emotionless look upon her fair face.

"Yes, I have decided not to keep you in the dark any longer," said Denethor, rising from his chair.

"About…about Faramir, my lord?" Boromir stuttered, hoping that he could know where his brother was and if he was safe.

"Yes, about your _brother_," Denethor said coldly.

Boromir could see that by the look on his fathers face that he did not even _want_ to mention Faramir.

"So you will now tell me of his whereabouts my lord?" Boromir asked.

"Yes, I have decided that this is the right time."

"Then where is he my lord? Is he safe?" Boromir asked, barely containing his eagerness.

"_He_ is in south Ithilien-trying to find and destroy a certain menace," Denethor said, looking his son straight in the eye.

"What sort of menace? Why did you wait so long to notify me father?"

"Because it was a matter that I entrusted him to," said Denethor.

"This menace that you speak of-are there many of them?" Boromir asked.

"That is unclear," Denethor said coolly.

"Then certainly you sent him with at least one hundred and fifty men," said Boromir.

"We cannot risk that! We are barely holding onto Osgiliath! Are you not present more than most, you should know more than most that I have had to secure Gondor's alliances and beg for aid! I could not spare but a few-fifteen Rangers, that was all!" Denethor shouted.

"Father why did you not send me!" Boromir asked, for his stomach churned at the very thought of his brother being put in harms way-by their own father!

"Do you not think that my judgment is sound? Do you think that I am ill in my mind?"

Boromir choked back tears-tears of anger, "How could you my lord?" he asked.

"I could not bear to lose my eldest son," said Denethor, walking up to Boromir and putting his hand on his son's shoulder, "you are my son-I care for you."

"And why not Faramir-he does love you father, but somehow you cannot!" Boromir almost shouted, not being able to contain his anger.

"That is no way for the future steward of Gondor to speak to speak to his father! It breaks my heart to hear you speak to me this way!"

"And how would you have it _my lord?_" Boromir spat.

Before Denethor could answer his hot tempered son; Boromir stormed out of Denethor's chambers.

000

Medwyn had been beaten again severely and had passed out.

When he awakened, his arm hurt him terribly-he was certain that it had been broken. Suddenly, he lifted his eyes and saw two elves dragging someone-this someone was very bloody.

"No, it cannot be," said the horrified Ranger.

But it was, and as he looked around, he noticed that his fellow Rangers had been brought there also; they all seemed wounded in some way or the other, it was clear that they had all been beaten severely. But his eyes lay on his captain. They dragged him to where the Rangers were, and dropped him onto the cold grass.

Although the other Rangers had been beaten badly, they were not beaten nearly half as bad as this.

Despite being bound at the wrists, Medwyn crawled over to Faramir.

"My lord," he said, not being able to believe what he was seeing.

Faramir lifted his bloody head and saw his good friend and confidant looking at him with pure concern.

"Med…Medwyn?" he stuttered.

"I am here my lord," said Medwyn. At this moment, he paid no attention to the elves who were watching them intently.

Suddenly, a beautiful raven-haired elf woman emerged from the trees; her gaze seemed to fall on Faramir almost immediately, but she quickly shifted her gaze.

She went over and spoke to the elves that were keeping guard; Darcyn could make out a few of her questions.

"Have they yet spoken and revealed if they are spies?" she asked.

"No, they have kept silent," one of the elves replied.

She shifted her violet blue eyes once more on the bloody prisoner, "Was there need to beat him so brutally?" she asked, a hint of compassion was in her voice.

"I do not question Selwyn's orders," answered the elf. "I am sure that it was needed."

The elfin woman could not shift her gaze away from the bloody man, she felt compassion. Yes, that was her conscience at work. She knew that she had to help him, she felt resolved to help him, for she was not cold like her brother, she had a heart, a conscience, and she decided that she would heed them both…


	7. From one cousin to another

_**A/N: **Sorry if I took a little while to update, as I've said in a previous A/N, I'm trying to work on making my cahpters longer (for you guys of course:) ) Anyway I hope you enjoy it!_

_To liz: Thanks for sharing your opinion, one can never have enough advice; I'm sorry if some of the characters may seem a little ooc to you and since it's the elves that worry you most,I do assure you that I know exactly what I'm doing with this story._

_**000**_

Boromir had confined himself to his chambers; he couldn't believe what his father had done. Denethor had deliberately sent Faramir into a death trap, and for what? And even then his description of what had fully happened was hazy.

Boromir was sick to his stomach, he hoped that no harm had come to his brother, but he knew that that was almost impossible-how were sixteen Rangers going to kill an entire army? It was impossible.

Boromir began to question Denethor's state of mind when he made the decision, for Boromir believed that somewhere in his father's heart there was a love for his son-for Faramir.

But how could that be considering what he had done?

Boromir was frustrated and angry, he had already thrown and broken various contents in his chamber, he wished that there would have been some way for him to stop it from happening, he would have rather gone in his brother's stead, and what he felt was completely normal for it is how every older brother or sister should feel if they by chance were ever in such a predicament.

Suddenly, just moments after he had thrown a vase at the door there was a knock.

"What is it?" Boromir asked, trying to compose himself.

"Is everything alright my lord?" answered a calm yet concerned voice of a woman.

Boromir recognized that voice, though he had only heard if once: that kind, gentle, soft voice. It was lady Eowyn's maid, Norah. "Yes, everything is alright," Boromir replied.

"Are you certain my lord? For I heard the sound of many things being broken," said Norah

"Yes, I am certain; I did not mean to alarm you."

"It is alright my lord," she replied softly.

As Boromir heard her walk away, he sat on his bed, not even bothering to assess the damage that had been done. He was angry-with his father.

000

The young elfin woman had wasted no time, she quickly ordered for some water to be brought to her, and while she waited for it, she walked over to Faramir and examined his wounds.

Elendur was the only one awake. The others had fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion and he could not blame them; he watched as the elfin woman gently looked at his captain's wounds, and he could not believe what he was seeing.

After all, weren't these elves supposed to be evil? Then how could she be any different? It did not make sense to him at all, but despite that he was glad that Faramir was getting the medical attention that he needed.

Once the water had been brought to her, she also asked for a herb that Elendur had not heard of before, and once it was given to her, he watched as she broke it into little pieces and mingled it with the water, she then used some cloth, dipped it into the herb-water and began to clean the unconscious Faramir's wounds with it.

Elendur was glad that Faramir had been unconscious for he knew that it would have hurt him pretty badly.

Suddenly, as the young elfin woman had just finished cleaning Faramir's wounds the raven haired elf appeared with three other elves behind him.

000

When Norah returned to Eowyn's chambers, she was quite surprised at Eowyn's sudden change of attitude, she now seemed much happier than when Norah had last seen her. Norah had known Eowyn for almost all of her life; they had become very close friends, so it was quite obvious that something had happened to Eowyn to make her attitude change so drastically.

"My lady, I cannot help saying that you seem decisively happier than when I last saw you," Norah commented.

"Ah, yes, I am happier indeed," said Eowyn, "you would be also if our lives were reversed."

"What then, my lady has made you so happy?" asked Norah.

"I will tell you for I trust that you will not reveal what I have told you to a single soul," said Eowyn.

"Of course my lady, I give you my word that I will not reveal what you have told me to a single soul."

"Good," said Eowyn, "for I want to share this with you."

"What my lady?"

"I am going away," Eowyn said, with an uncontrollable smile coming across her face.

"Where to my lady? And for how long?"

"I am hoping to return to Rohan, but that may prove too risky; for I do not intend to return."

"You are going to run away?" Norah gasped.

"Yes Norah, that is my intention, and I do not believe that anything can stop me for I have made up my mind."

"My lady, you cannot run away! What about your obligations here in Minas Tirith?" Norah asked.

"That is why I am running away; I cannot be bound to my life of unhappiness; the choice to marry the son of the steward was not my own!"

"But my lady, you certainly will not get far; I cannot bear to think of what would happen if you were to be caught," said Norah, resting her head in her right hand.

"That is a chance that I am willing to take, but it may not happen for Theodred is going to help me."

"How were you able to convince lord Theodred to consent to this?" Norah asked, in shock.

"It was not very hard, although Eomer will not help us, I just know it."

"My lady, I think that it would be safer if you were to stay here, for they shall hunt for you until they find you, and that I am sure you know already," said Norah, with a slight frown of worry coming over her face.

"Yes I do know that but if I stay here any longer I think that I shall die!" Eowyn exclaimed.

"_Please_ do not say such things my lady," Norah replied.

"I simply cannot help it; it angers me that lord Théoden could do such a thing to me!" Eowyn exclaimed. She, in truth was taken by surprise when king Théoden had told her that she was to be married. She was also angry and sad, although she had, somewhere along the line, forgiven him.

"My mind is made up," Eowyn continued, "I shall either escape to freedom or I will die in my attempt."

000

Théoden knew that he could not help Eowyn escape without Eomer knowing, so he knew that as risky as it seemed, he had to inform Eomer and try to convince him to help them.

So he had requested to see his cousin immediately, and though it seemed as if it had taken Eomer an hour to come, he had actually arrived in a matter of minutes.

"You said it was urgent, so I came as fast as I could," said Eomer.

"My thanks," said Theodred, he did not know what he was going to say to Eomer, but he knew that if he said the wrong thing Eowyn's one chance of freedom might as well fall on a sword.

"Well, what is it?" Eomer asked, with a concerned look on his face.

"It is Eowyn-and me; you must help us," Theodred said bluntly.

"I know not what you are talking about," Eomer replied.

Theodred began to nervously pace the room. Eomer knew that it had to be serious for Theodred only paced back and forth when he was _extremely_ nervous about something, and usually this something was of great importance.

"Please speak, and do stop pacing, for you are making me nervous also," said Eomer.

Theodred stopped pacing and stood before his cousin, he began to speak again, "Do you remember the brief conversation that we had with Eowyn in the stables?" Theodred asked.

"We talked for a while, you must be more specific."

"Very well; do you remember when she said that she wished to return to Rohan with us?"

"Yes, and I told her otherwise," said Eomer with a slight frown. "What is your point?"

"My point is, she intends to act on her feelings-she intends to run away and I intend to help her."

The color drained from Eomer's face, "I do not believe this," he said standing up and walking to a window. "You mean to help my sister escape! I know that this is hard for her right now, but she does not realize what this will do to our renewed alliance with Gondor! Their marriage was a confirmation of the treaty. She cannot escape this, as much as I wished that this had never happened. If she runs away, they will hunt her down and I would not like to think of what would happen next," Eomer ran a nervous hand through his hair, his eyes seemed as though they had been set aflame.

He loved his sister deeply, but how this was too much for him to bear. He scolded himself for not seeing it sooner. He knew that he should have, for this was typical of Eowyn and it was typical of Theodred also, but a part of his heart could understand and sympathize with her, after all he was her brother. He could not help being protective of her, and he knew that this would probably one of a very few if not the only chance of escape.

But was he willing to let them escape?

"What would you have me do then, if she is to escape?" he asked suddenly.

"I would need you to help us, for Eowyn needs as much help as possible, and I trust you only to help us," answered Theodred.

"She is my sister and I love her, I wish for nothing more than her happiness-her freedom. I shall help her," said Eomer, for he had a heart-a conscience, he refused to return to Rohan and leave her as an eagle in a cage. He would help to free Eowyn-he had made up his mind.

000

As Denethor sat in his chambers his conversation with Boromir continued to replay itself in his mind:

"_And why not Faramir-he does love you father, but somehow you cannot!"_

"But somehow I cannot," Denethor said, repeating what his son had said. He too had retreated to his chambers after his argument with Boromir. He sent all of his servants away for he had wanted to be alone-alone to reflect on his thoughts.

He had sent his least-favored son with only fifteen Rangers to hunt down and kill possibly an army of Haradrim. He knew that that was barely enough for a scouting party.

His earlier conversation with Faramir began to replay in his mind:

"_Do you mean to send me into a death trap my lord?"_

"_So you would shirk away from your duty?"_

"_Never my lord; I will serve Gondor even unto my death."_

"And so he may," said Denethor aloud, to himself once again. "And so he may."


	8. The shadow elves

_**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews! I appreciated the advice and pointers so thanks guys:) anyway heres chappy eight so enjoy!_

**_000_**

The raven-haired Elven man walked up to her and stood looking down at her, "It is not required for you to give the prisoners treatment," he said coldly.

The young Elven woman now stood to her feet, "I could not simply walk away, he was beaten severely-I am sure that he was beaten much worse than what was necessary."

"You do not question my orders," the cold elf said, and then turning to the three elves that stood behind him he said, "Take him into my tent; for when he awakens we shall have a much needed discussion."

"Please do not bring anymore harm to him; he is wounded badly enough," she pleaded.

"And what would you care for a Gondorian prisoner?" asked the elf in a harsh voice.

"Nothing-I care nothing," she said in a low voice, with her head down.

"Good, then let me deal with him as I please," he said, turning to leave, and then he stopped and turned around again. "Fetch some water and food for the prisoners, I would not have them die of hunger or thirst."

She stared after him as he walked away, then two of the elves slung Faramir's limp arms around their shoulders and they took him to their leader's tent.

000

Eowyn was overjoyed that she was going to escape even though she couldn't help but wish that her brother Eomer was going help her escape, for she knew that it would be considerably harder to escape because Theodred would not be able to leave without Eomer knowing.

She dwelt on these thoughts as she once again made her way to the stables for that was where she spent most of her time for it was the only memory of home that she had and everyone that knew her knew that most of the time they would find her in the stables.

She was so caught up in her thoughts of escaping that she was not watching where she was going.

Suddenly, she bumped right into someone and stumbled a little.

"I am so sorry; I should have watched where I was going," she apologized.

"It is alright, it could have happened to anybody," said a calm, gentle male voice.

When he stood to his feet and turned around, Eowyn saw that he was an elf! And then she remembered Norah telling her about and Elven servant.

"_This must be the elf that Norah spoke of,"_ Eowyn thought.

When the elf saw that he was staring into the face of lady Eowyn, his expression softened even more. "It is an honor to finally meet you my lady."

Eowyn did not know exactly what to say to that, "Well it is good to finally meet you, for I found it rather peculiar that an elf dwelt in this city," she said smiling.

"I have dwelt here for almost four decades; I was a personal servant of lady Finduilas," he said.

"Well, I am glad to meet you, although I do not know your name."

"My name is Arial; but my lady, I must hurry back for I have already been gone longer than I should have, I shall look forward to seeing you again my lady," and with that he hurried off.

Eowyn watched as he hurried off. "I am afraid this may be our first and last meeting, Arial," she said, and continued on her way to the stables.

000

Boromir had not yet come out of his chambers and Denethor could not help worrying about him, so he decided to go and see his son for it upset him to see Boromir in that state.

When Boromir heard the knock on his door, he figured that it was probably one of the servants.

"_What could they want?"_ he asked himself.

Boromir had not been this upset for a _very_ long time, and usually it did not annoy him when servants were at the door. But that day was different-much different. Nonetheless he opened the door, and was quite surprised to see Denethor staring back at him.

"May a father have at least a moment with his son?" Denethor asked.

Boromir in truth did not want to let him in, but yet he decided to give his father a chance to apologize for what he had done to Faramir, although that most certainly would not bring him back it would at least redeem Denethor in his son's eyes by showing that he felt remorse for what he had done; so without saying a word, Boromir stepped aside so that Denethor could go in.

As Denethor entered, he saw the broken contents lying every which way; he just hoped that Boromir would aim anything at him…

"So what have you come for father?" Boromir asked.

By the tone of Boromir's voice, Denethor knew that he had cooled down a little.

"I have come to put our disagreement to rest," Denethor said, somewhat remorsefully.

Boromir said nothing, for at that moment he knew not what to say.

"You are my firstborn; I love you and I do not wish for us to continue as we are now towards each other."

"I do not wish that either, but father what you have done…what you have done gives me reason to doubt that you love Faramir at all!" said Boromir, turning and looking out the window.

"Now is not the time to speak of such things, this is about you and me reconciling," said Denethor standing next to Boromir.

"Now is as good a time as any," Boromir said, refusing to look at his father.

"It is best to discuss some things at a later hour-do you not agree?"

"Do you love him father-at all?" Boromir asked suddenly.

"Of course I love him…to a certain degree," Denethor said, but he wasn't speaking to Boromir, he was dwelling on his own thoughts; and if he had been more aware it was likely that he would have said something different.

"To a certain degree?" Boromir spat. "How can you say this about your own flesh and blood father?"

"I do love Faramir, but I do not need you chastising me about how much I should love my own son! I will not have you speak to me in this manner; do not forget who is the father and who is the son!"

Boromir stood in silence for a few moments; a part of him wanted to make peace with Denethor for despite their faults, mishaps, and disagreements they were still father and son and that would never change. But yet another part of him still could not understand a father that could naturally and unconditionally love a son, but yet with the other he could only love him to a '_certain degree_'.

But throughout this inward conflict, it kept on pounding in his head that they were still flesh and blood. He wanted nothing more than to bring his brother back to Minas Tirith, he wanted to know for certain that his brother was alright; but there was no way of knowing at that time.

"You are my father," he said suddenly, turning to Denethor who had been equally silent. "And that can never change; I believe in my heart that what you did to Faramir was wrong, but nonetheless I hope that we can reconcile."

"I know that we can reconcile," said Denethor placing his hand on Boromir's shoulder, before turning to leave.

As Boromir watched Denethor leave he sighed, it had been a pretty rough day so far, he was dreading to see what could possibly go wrong next…

000

When Eowyn returned from the stables, she immediately went to see Theodred for she wanted to start planning her escape as soon as possible.

She knocked urgently on the door and when it opened, she was surprised to see her brother standing before her.

"Eomer," she said, not sure what excuse to make up for being there, but if she wouldn't have been so nervous about her plan being discovered she would have realized that she _didn't_ need an excuse to see her cousin, for they were quite close.

"It is alright sister, I know everything; I am here to help you," he said, drawing her into his arms.

"Thank you-thank you so very much…words cannot describe how grateful I am to both of you," she said, for she had not even thought for a moment that Eomer would have gone along with her escaping, but apparently she was wrong.

"We have been trying to think of a way that you can escape unnoticed-at least until you are far away from Gondor," said Theodred.

"Yes, I understand that I am going to return to Rohan," Eowyn said, with a sparkle in her eyes.

"I am afraid that you cannot-not for a while to say the least," said Eomer.

Eowyn drew herself out of her brothers arms, "What are you saying, I want to escape so that I can go home, I do not wish to venture into strange lands!" Eowyn said.

"It cannot be helped, if you go back to Rohan they will find you, and I assure you that it will not be so easy to escape again-if you get another opportunity," said Eomer.

"Then where am I to go?" Eowyn asked, calmly.

"You are to journey northward," Theodred said in a low voice. "One of us will be able to accompany you some of the way, but the rest you must ride alone."  
"But where am I to go?" Eowyn asked again.

Eomer looked put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "Eowyn, as you know if you are to escape then you must go far away so that they will not find you."

"But where am I to go!" she repeated in a more agitated tone for now that she knew that she would not return to Rohan for a long while, she just wanted to know where she would be until she _could _finally return home.

"Theodred and I have both agreed that you would be safe and harder to find if you journeyed to Mirkwood."

000

When Faramir opened his eyes he saw that he was in another tent-a much larger one, and this time he was not alone. The raven-haired Elven man was sitting on a wooden chair and seemed to be looking at a map on a wooden table.

It seemed that he looked up from what he was doing just in time to see that Faramir was now awake; the herbs that the Elven woman had used worked miracles, for although his wounds could still be seen, they were healing rapidly, all in that short space of time.

The Elven-man now got up from his chair and walked over to Faramir, and stood over him looking down on him as usual.

"You are fortunate that someone pitied you and cared for your wounds," commented the elf.

Faramir said nothing, but he could not deny that the elf's gaze made him feel as though he was only an insignificant earthworm.

"So I see that you intend to remain mute?" he asked sarcastically.

"I have nothing to say to heartless beasts such as you," Faramir spat.

"Ah, you have a sharp tongue; if you are not careful with it you might get it cut off."

"Why have you brought me here?" Faramir asked.

"Because there are some questions that I need answered," he said walking over to the small table on which the map was set, "I know that you Rangers have a leader-a captain; which one is he?" asked the elf, still looking at Faramir intently.

"You are looking at him," Faramir said, boldly.

"Ah, so you are the captain of these Rangers-I knew that there was something different about you."

"But the question remains, who are you?" Faramir asked, for he did not know elves to travel the Harad road-evil elves least of all.

"Who am I?" he asked, and he let out a devilish laugh, "Who am I? I am Selwyn, leader of the shadow elves."

"The shadow elves?" Faramir asked, somewhat to himself.

"I am sure that you have not heard of us for we are the elves that you do not hear of, we are the elves whom most do not know-we are the elves that sided with Sauron."


	9. Longing for Rivendell

_**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews guys! I love you all! Here's chappy nine, so enjoy! _

As Eowyn stood on the seventh level of Minas Tirith and gazed wistfully upon the Pelennor fields, for she wished to ride across them-never to return.

While she dwelt on these thoughts, she heard the footsteps of someone approaching; she figured that it was Theodred or Eomer so she didn't bother to turn around.

Escape was so near-freedom was so near, soon she _would_ ride across the Pelennor fields never to return.

"I presume that the Pelennor fields remind you of Rohan, my lady," said a soft voice.

Eowyn turned around and found herself staring into the eyes of her husband, "I had not expected to meet you here my lord," she said in a softer tone than usual.

"And I you," said Boromir, as he too gazed upon the Pelennor.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a little while; Eowyn was not sure whether to go or stay, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Boromir glancing at her from time to time.

"So, what is it that brings you here my lord?" she asked suddenly.

"For a few moments of peace and quiet-one cannot think clearly if ones head is unclear," he stated, which was of course an obvious fact.

"Then I shall leave you to clear your head my lord," said Eowyn, turning to leave.

"No, you may stay if you wish," he said, gently turning her around by her upper arm.

Eowyn froze at his touch, and only then did Boromir realize what he had done.

"I am sorry my lady, I-'' he cut himself off, when he saw that the expression on her face had softened-not a lot, but nonetheless it softened.

She did not understand why she did not carry the strong dislike for him as she usually did, she figured that it was because she was soon going to be free so she _wouldn't_ be tied to this man for the rest of her life, "You need not apologize my lord," she said.

And so they stared out at the Pelennor together once again; Eowyn glanced over at Boromir and she saw that he looked troubled by something.

"Do you care to tell me what troubles you my lord?" she asked.

Boromir sighed and turned to face her; he did not know why she was not as cold towards him as usual, but in truth he did not mind the fact that she had warmed up to him, even if it was only a little.

"It is my sire-and my brother," Boromir said, it almost seemed as though he was just speaking his thoughts aloud rather than talking to Eowyn.

"What has happened to trouble you?"

"How can a man unconditionally love one son, but yet the other he will only love to a _certain_ degree?" Boromir said.

Eowyn could hear the anger rising in his voice, but suddenly, he checked himself realizing that he had said too much already; for the private lives of the steward and his sons were usually not to be discussed to anyone, for most of what the people in the city knew of them was what Denethor wanted them to know, as far as the people knew, Denethor loved both of his son's unconditionally; and he made sure that nothing made them think otherwise.

"Forgive me my lady; I should not speak of such things to you."

"If you think, my lord that I would tell another soul what you have told me in confidence, then you must know that I am not that woman-the woman who spreads private things about her lord's life."

"I do not doubt that, my lady," he said looking out upon the fields once more; hoping that his brother was safe-hoping that not harm had come to him.

"I understand my lord, that you are bound to silence," Eowyn said, feeling somewhat sympathetic for him.

"You understand more than I thought you would," Boromir said, looking at Eowyn. He could not believe that it was the same woman who he began to think despised him; this same woman was understanding and soft-hearted, he did not know what had changed her mind about him, but change was good.

000

For a moment Faramir stared at the elf in shock; he did not know that there were elves that served Sauron.

How could it be?

"How came you into his service?" Faramir asked, composing himself.

The elf stood there a moment, as if reflecting on his life, "It was by my father that I came into Sauron's service."

Faramir was surprised that 'Selwyn' was opening up to him so easily; nonetheless he listened as the elf continued.

"My father was not like any other elf; he was wicked and brutal, and desired nothing more than to have power; he hated the men of the west, and he was bitter for he wished nothing more than to muster an army and annihilate you all!" as he said this, he struck the table with his fist, causing the table to shake.

Faramir, who was still trying to make sense of where Selwyn was going, listened intently.

"Therefore, he was exiled from his native Elven land of Rivendell-if he was to return he would be killed. And with him also went some of the other elves who were just as bitter as he was; he also passed through the woodland realm, taking several followers with him also. And then…and then he sought to take refuge in Mordor…" Selwyn's voice trailed off. And then he checked himself; he was not to be telling this _Gondorian_ of his father's history, instead he should be interrogating _him_, for after all he was the prisoner.

"You have already heard much more than you needed to _Gondorian_," he said, returning to his arrogant, cold demeanor.

Faramir had not expected the sudden change in the elf's behavior; for a moment it seemed as though he had found a soft spot in the cold elf, and now it had disappeared without a trace.

"Now _captain_ of the Rangers, tell me exactly who you are," sneered the elf.

"I am almost exactly what you said," replied Faramir, in a tone that showed that he was not intimidated by the elf.

"You do not _choose_ what you want to tell me, for I can have you killed by uttering one single word; it would be wise of you to cooperate, for I would not hesitate to demonstrate on one of your Rangers what we are truly capable of."

Faramir paled; he would rather die than see harm brought to his men, for he did not feel it his duty to protect them-it was an instinct, and to have them die because of his own pride…he might as well just be a dead man.

"I would rather you kill me then bring harm to my men," Faramir said, standing up and looking the elf square in the eye.

Though he did not realize it at the time, he was acting as his brother would have done and if Boromir had seen the courage and nobility displayed by him just saying those few words, in spite of the situation he would have smiled proudly.

"Surely you must have great courage to make such a statement, for here we do not take such things lightly; and one of these days you may very well find yourself in the situation of which you have spoken."

"And I would face it just as I have said," said Faramir.

"You are a loyal one, are you not _captain_?" he asked, almost mockingly.

"Yes, I am loyal to Gondor," he answered. As he did so, his mind drifted back to Minas Tirith, and then to the place where he spent a good deal of his time: Henneth Annun. Over time he had grown attached and used to the place, as did his fellow Rangers. He missed his good friend Damrod a great deal also, he was such good friends with the Ranger that he did not tell him where he was and how many men Denethor had sent with him, for he knew that Damrod would have accompanied him, and it was bad enough to see fifteen of his men beaten, never mind seeing his childhood friend go through it; it would have been all but unbearable.

Selwyn seemed to notice Faramir's wistful gaze, and he smiled smugly; "You are homesick, are you not? Well you should know that we are still in your _country_."

"Do you think I am a fool? I know that we are still in Gondor, but when my father-'' Faramir cut himself off, it had been merely an instinct to threaten the elf of what would happen when Denethor found out that he was being held prisoner. But in truth, Denethor had set him in that predicament in the first place, and so if he _did_ find out that he was being held prisoner, chances were that he would do nothing.

"Ah, your father; what power could he have that you would threaten me with his finding out of your predicament?"

Faramir was silent.

"You are unwilling to speak I see, but you will do so anyway for I order you to do so!" he said, once again slamming his hand on the map table which all but collapsed.

"I do not answer to you _'Shadow elf,' _" Faramir said, with dignity and integrity in his voice.

"You shall soon learn to do as I say!" the elf stated in a loud voice. "I will grind you under my heel like the dust, _Gondorian,_" he said, and walking up to Faramir and taking him off guard placed a well aimed blow in his stomach.

The shock of the punch caused Faramir to fall to the ground. Selwyn paced a hard kick to his side, and staring over him with a stare that would belittle anybody said:

"I do not need those under me to grind you, for I can do that myself; do not forget who is the captor and who is the captive; for I mean what I say, I will grind you under my heel for you are worthless and meaningless to me."

Faramir stared after him as he left the tent.

Faramir's eyebrows knitted in anger-he would not let this elf get a chance to grind him as though he were some form of cattle, it was his duty to find a way for he and his men to escape, even if they just escaped and he had to be left behind-his mind was now bent upon it, and once Faramir set his mind to something he always found a way.

000

Arial stood and looked out on the Pelennor; he had waited for lady Eowyn and lord Boromir to leave so that he could be alone-alone to think about home; home for Arial was Rivendell; but chances were that he would not return there, although it was on his mind almost constantly-ever since lady Finduilas died.

For when she was alive he had great time in Minas Tirith, but ever since her untimely death he had longed to return to his native land.

Sometimes even the thought of running away had come into his mind for elves can move about noiselessly if they do not wish to be discovered; more and more that thought had crossed his mind and he had tried to push it away but somehow found that he could not.

Why was it that he could not get it out of his head?

"_No, no, I must be honorable and stay here even though I may be unhappy-it is my duty Minas Tirith is now my home."_

Those were the words that he had to keep repeating to himself day in and day out, but more and more they seemed to lose their effect-he knew that soon something would give…

_**A/N 2: **Hey guys I hope that ya'll enjoyed chappy nine-even if you didn't feel free to R&R to tell me what you think:)_

****


	10. The plan

_**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews! Here's chapp ten, enjoy:)_

**_000_**

As Faramir was trying to strategize a way to escape, the tent flap lifted and Faramir, half expecting to see Selwyn was surprised to find himself staring into those violet blue eyes of the Elven woman.

She reopened the tent flap to make sure that no one was near; when she realized that it was safe enough she turned her attention back to Faramir.

Faramir suddenly noticed that she had water skins in her hand, and she also had a wooden bowl in the other, and a look of nervousness and concern was on her face.

"I cannot stay long-for if I am caught then you might get punished even worse."

Faramir did not know what to say to the Elven woman for a moment, but finally when he regained his composure he asked:

"Why are you doing this?"

"I cannot answer your questions right now for my brother may return at any moment; but here, drink. I am sorry that I couldn't find a cup for you but this will have to do right now."

And after saying that, she emptied the water that was left in the water skins into the bowl and handed it to him.

Faramir drank it eagerly for he was very thirsty, and secondly he did not know when he would be privileged with water again.

Finally, when he had drank all of the water; the Elven woman took it back and fled the tent before he could even thank her.

000

It was now nightfall in Gondor, and it seemed that all in Minas Tirith slept, but it was not so; the former servant of lady Finduilas tossed and turned in his bed. That night he had had disturbing dreams-dreams of his brother. His brother had left Rivendell for the woodland realm after their mother and father had grown weary of middle earth and departed over the sea, for their father was of Rivendell and their mother was of Mirkwood.

While Arial took after his father in appearance, his brother took after their mother. He had not seen his brother for many years now but suddenly, that night he was having disturbing dreams of him and so he could not sleep.

The dreams were all very similar, they were of his brother lying in a forest, bleeding badly, and he looked as though he was almost dead, if not so already; and there were dead orcs lying around him, and he saw another blond elf trying to tend to his wounds.

Arial had not had a vivid dream such as that for quite some time, and the last time that he had a dream like that, the very things that he had foreseen came to pass, so these dreams disturbed him, he knew that if he was granted freedom or if he decided to escape, then his plans would change drastically.

Finally, he sat up and began to think about what he should do. It did not take long for him to decide-he would beg for leave of Minas Tirith, and if that was not granted to him then he would run away, and he would set his course for Mirkwood.

000

Eomer's sleep was suddenly interrupted by an urgent knock on his door; he opened it to see his sister standing before him; he had guessed that it was her.

"Sister, you should be sleeping at this hour: it is not yet morning."

"Indeed, but I could not sleep, and then the idea came to me: if I could disguise myself as a servant, then I might be able to escape without my absence being know for a little while."

Eomer ran a hand through his hair and tired to comprehend what she was saying, for he was still very groggy, considering that he had just been awakened from a deep sleep.

"Do you not think that it will work?" Eowyn said, with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Yes-yes, I think that it could work, but can we not wait until morning so that the three of us can discuss this?"

"Of course, of course; I am sorry to disturb you," Eowyn said, not being able to help smiling at her brother's grogginess.

So after a hug, they parted ways again-at least until the morning.

000

The next morning, Eowyn, Boromir, and Denethor ate breakfast in silence.

Although the silence seemed somewhat uncomfortable, Eowyn didn't mind it for she was glad to that she could concentrate on thinking about escaping, but the quiet of breakfast was soon interrupted by Denethor, who by accident made things more uncomfortable by asking:

"So, tell me Eowyn, how are you adjusting to your new life here in Minas Tirith?"

"Father, there is no need for us to discuss such things," Boromir said, knowing that Denethor was making the situation worse.

"I did not address the question to you, son. Let lady Eowyn speak for herself."

"It is as well as can be expected my lord," said Eowyn.

"Good; you shall soon come to love Gondor as though it were your country by birth," said Denethor.

Eowyn put her head down, _"I think not my lord, I think not."_ She thought.

000

After the uncomfortable breakfast; Denethor had been told that the servant Arial had wanted to see him. The Elven servant had almost completely slipped from his memory, but nonetheless he told the guards that he would see him.

Arial soon came, and bowed in front of the steward.

"You may rise now Arial, and tell me why you want to see me."

"My lord, I have come to ask for your leave that I may leave Gondor," the elf answered calmly.

"Why?" Denethor asked, in a dry voice.

"It…it is my brother my lord, I am certain that he is in danger, and I only ask that I may go to him."

"Are you asking merely for leave or for your freedom, Arial?" Denethor asked coldly.

"I am asking for my freedom my lord, but if you will not grant then I will gladly take your leave; I will do anything my lord, for you to allow me to go to my brother," pleaded the elf.

"_You_ leave Gondor? I think not. You will stay here and fulfill your service to the very end, lest you die first!"

"But my lord, when will my service end? If it is not your wish to free me then I will abide by that, I only ask that you will let me go to my brother for I have had disturbing dreams about him my lord."

Denethor did not question that, for he knew all too well that the elf was gifted in that manner, for he had had a dream of lady Finduilas lying almost dead upon a bed, and so it came to pass.

"You will not question me; now be gone from my sight."

"But my lord; I only-''

"Did you not hear me? I said be gone!"

So Arial turned and left, one option had failed and so he would have no choice but to risk it all: he would run away, never to return to the white city.

000

As Eowyn, Theodred, and Eomer sat together in Eomer's quarters, they tried to perfect Eowyn's plan of escape, ideas were constantly thrown up, but it seemed to make things worse. Suddenly, Theodred had an idea that he was certain would work.

"I have an idea," he said, interrupting both Eowyn and Eomer, who turned their attention to their cousin. "You will have to dress as a soldier for it will conceal your face best."

Eowyn and Eomer opened their mouths in unison as though they were going to say something, but closed them and listened as Theodred continued.

"We will say that we are to return to Rohan as soon as possible for it is an emergency, and you and a few others will leave with me, just so it will not look suspicious."

"And what of me?" asked Eomer, "I would prefer it if I were to accompany Eowyn."

"I'm sorry cousin, but it cannot be so; this is a delicate situation, and so you must stay so that you may even stall their search for her-if you can. Trust me when I say that you will be helping her more than you think if you stay and do so."

Eomer nodded, "I will do anything that I can," he said.

"I will have to go as though I must leave in great haste and so I will only take a few of my men with me; one of which will happen to be the lady of Rohan," he said, grinning. He could not help being proud of his plan.

"So," said Eowyn displaying a smile. "It seems that we have a plan."

"So it seems," said Eomer, "so it seems."

000

After they had gone over the plan, they had only the rough edges to discuss, and so they decided to break up the conversation until nightfall, for they had now all developed some form of paranoia, due to how dangerous the plan was.

And so, Eowyn once again made her way to the stables, and there she saw, once again the elf that she had met previously; whose name was Arial.

"I had not expected to find you here," Eowyn said.

Arial turned around, and Eowyn saw a strange gleam in his eye, but it soon vanished. "I love to visit the stables, my lady; but I can hardly ever find the time," he replied.

"That is a pity," said Eowyn.

"Yes, I know my lady, but it cannot be helped. Over time I have grown used to it."

"But it is still a pity that you cannot visit the stables as often as you may wish."

"Do not worry my lady, I am certain that that day will come," he said, in a determined voice.

Eowyn noticed the look on his face: he looked determined, angry, and sorrowful at the same time. Walking over to him, she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"What is the matter Arial? Even though I have only met you once I know that something is wrong."

He stared at her for a moment, as if he was debating whether he could trust her or not, finally, he spoke. "I cannot stay here my lady; I must leave-I must leave this city for good."

"Why? What has happened?" Eowyn asked.

"It is my brother, I have had disturbing dreams of him, and even lord Denethor knows that when I dream of such things, they come to pass; but yet he will not let me go to my brother for a reason that I do not know; so I am left with no other choice but to leave-and never return, for if I do return then I shall be killed."

Eowyn was stunned for a moment. She had not expected to hear _that_. "Where is your brother?" she asked.

"He is in Mirkwood," replied the elf.


	11. Boromir's gift

_**A/N: **Sorry for the late update, and I apologize if the chapter seems shorter than usual, what can I say besides, I was watching tennis! anyway, I hope that you guys enjoy this chappy, by the way thanks for the reviews!_

**_000_**

Faramir awoke to find that he was still in the tent; he hadn't seen Selwyn since their talk and now he wondered what the elf could possibly want with him, but he didn't have to worry about that for too long, for while his thoughts returned to figuring out a way to escape, the tent flap lifted and in walked Selwyn, he instantly saw that the Ranger was awake.

"You are finally awake," he stated cheekily.

"What do you want?" Faramir asked; he was growing _very_ weary of the elf.

"So you will start your day with sarcasm, well I am sure that that will soon change, for you will soon be begging for mercy," and the elf let out another devilish laugh.

Faramir said nothing.

Selwyn continued, "Do you not know where we are going?"

"You have no reason to hold us prisoner, _elf_!" exclaimed Faramir, feeling his anger rising.

His bold uprising resulted in a blow to the face, and Selwyn showed no emotion as dark blood oozed from Faramir nose.

"You will learn to respect me!" he said, delivering a harsh kick to Faramir's side.

The Ranger grunted in pain at the second blow, for although he had been almost completely healed, due to the herbs, he had not healed fully.

Suddenly, an elf entered the tent.

"What is it, Faelivrin?" Selwyn asked sharply.

"They are still refusing to talk, and I think that we are wasting our time with them; I suggest that we set them loose."

"Is that why you have come? To give me a senseless suggestion?" Selwyn's brown eyes seemed as though they had been set aflame.

"I thought that it sounded quite reason-''

"Forget your reason; it matters not. I do not have the time or the patience to listen to your foolishness-leave me!"

The elf turned and left without another word.

Faramir's nose was still bleeding, so Selwyn left the tent and in a few minutes the young Elven woman entered, carrying some cloth and a small bowl containing water.

"You do not seem to be bleeding very badly," she said, after she had examined him.

"Why did you do that for me?" asked Faramir, as she wiped the blood away.

"Because I felt that it was right," she replied softly.

"I do not understand."

"I…I…I must not speak about this to you right now, for my brother could return at any moment," she said, and her hands began to shake a little, due to nervousness as she wiped the blood.

"Why do you fear him?" Faramir asked, gently, but firmly taking hold of her wrist and looking into her eyes.

She averted her gaze. "It is not my place to answer such things."

"Why is that so," said Faramir.

The Elven woman looked around the tent and then she spoke in a low whisper, "If he finds out that I aided you in anyway…I fear what he will do to me-it seems at times as though he has no heart."

"What is your name?" he asked, still holding on to her wrist.

She finally met his gaze, "Morwen."

Faramir released his grip, allowing her wrist to go free, "My thanks Morwen, I see that you have taken a great risk in helping me."

000

"Mirkwood?" Eowyn asked; she couldn't help noticing the coincidence.

"Yes; he is in Mirkwood. But if I am to find him then I must make haste to depart for I do not want to be too late-I hope that I am not too late," he said, looking downwards.

Eowyn placed a comforting hand on his shoulder; "I am sure that you are not too late, I am certain that you will find your brother."

"I hope that you are right, my lady," replied the elf.

Suddenly, Eowyn's eyes lit up, "It is possible I believe, that I can come with you."

Arial shot her a confused look.

"Yes, I desire to leave Minas Tirith, _never_ to return; I have been planning an escape to Mirkwood, and so I would love to accompany you."

"Why are _you _unhappy here my lady?" asked the elf.

"I long to return to Rohan, where I can be free; it was never my wish to marry lord Boromir yet I was forced to do so; I do not doubt that he is a noble man but I must leave nonetheless, for I do not love him."

"Then you are welcome to accompany me my lady; I shall notify you of our time of departure-and it will be soon, I promise," he said, turning to leave.

Eowyn pitied the elf Arial, despite how she felt about her trials; his one reason for wanting to leave made hers seem almost insignificant.

000

Eowyn was engaged in a conversation with Norah, when there was a knock on the door.

"I will get it my lady," said Norah.

When she did get it she was nothing short of surprised to see Boromir standing at the door.

"What may I do for you my lord?" Norah asked.

"Is lady Eowyn here? I must speak with her," Boromir asked.

Norah noticed the cheerfulness in his tone; "She is here my lord, I will let her know that you wish to see her."

In what seemed to be less than a minute, lady Eowyn came to the door. "You wished to see me my lord?" she asked.

"Yes, I wanted to show you something."

"Well, my lord where is it?"

"Not here!" Boromir said, in a cheerful voice.

"Then where is it my lord?" she asked.

"Come with me," Boromir said taking her hand.

This time his touch did not make her freeze as it used to. So she allowed him to lead her to the location.

She was no doubt surprised when she saw that he was in fact leading her to the stables; finally when they entered, she saw a horse that hadn't been there before; its black shiny coat and mane made it stand out from all of the rest, including her own beloved horse Windfola. It seemed as though Boromir had followed her gaze and noticed that her eyes had rested on the horse.

"I see that he has caught your eye-as he did mine," stated the Gondorian lord.

"Yes, he is very beautiful," Eowyn remarked.

"He is indeed; he was bred in Dol Amroth-they are known for their beautiful horses, but you do not easily find stallions such as Galeth."

"I see. It would be very hard to find one that matched him in beauty."

"Yes, but the one that matches him will be the one that rides him-he is yours."

Eowyn looked at Boromir in astonishment; she did not know what to say thank you to: the gift or the compliment, finally, she found the words to say. "Thank you my lord! I could never dream of receiving such a gift! You are most extraordinary!" she said, taking him by surprise and embracing him. "Thank you, thank you!"

Boromir had not expected such and emotional reaction, but he hugged her back nonetheless. "When I saw him I instantly thought of you-he already looked as though he belonged to you my lady," said Boromir.

"_If circumstances were different, we might have been friends my lord; if only things were different!" _as Eowyn thought on this, tears began to flow down her fair, pale cheeks.

"Why do you cry my lady? Is something wrong?" Boromir asked, gently drawing her out of the hug and looking into her face with a look of concern.

"They are tears of joy," Eowyn lied.

"Well my lady, do you not wish to ride him?"

000

Not long after Morwen left, two elves came and literally dragged Faramir back to his fellow Rangers; their wounds seemed to be healing, and they were still tied up. And also for some reason the elves were not watching them as intently as they had at first.

"My lord," said Darcyn, scooting closer to Faramir. "It was them-they are the ones that killed our fellow soldiers, I overheard the elves on guard talk about it."

Faramir was not surprised-there was not an inkling of doubt in his mind that they sided with Sauron.

"I do not doubt what you have just told me," said Faramir. "The leader, Selwyn told me personally that they side with Sauron-they are called 'Shadow elves'."

"That is a surprise my lord, I had not expected to hear that," Darcyn replied.

"How have things been out here?" Faramir asked, truly concerned.

"As well as can be expected; we were thinking about attempting escape but none of us were willing to leave without you-that is except for Gelmir."

It was a well known fact that Gelmir carried a strong dislike for the captain of the Ithilien Rangers, and though he was loyal to Gondor and obedient to his captain, he was always very sneaky and could rarely be trusted.

He did in fact, envy Faramir of his position. In secret of course, but if the accusation had been brought to light none would defend him for they wouldn't put it past him.

"Ah, Gelmir is back to himself I see," said Faramir, taking the matter light-hearted as usual.

"Forgive me my lord, but sometimes I cannot stand him!"

"I know that his ways are sneaky, but you must forgive him-he cannot help it. He has known no other way."

Gelmir's father was a thief and murderer who was eventually caught, and sentenced to die. But Gelmir's father being a master of disguise and escape-escaped!

But Gelmir had not seen his father since.

"I know that he has had a hard life-but which one of us hasn't? It does not excuse his ways, my lord in any way!"

"We have much more important things to discuss at the moment. We must plan an escape-and fast, for I do not think that time is on our side."

"I agree my lord," said Darcyn, seemingly forgetting the matter.

000

Arial was restless; his brother was on his mind-ceaselessly.

He knew that he couldn't delay any longer- finally he made up his mind. They would leave that night-even if he died in attempting, he would do his very best to reach his brother…


	12. Now or never

_**A/N: **Okay guys, heres chappy twelve; schools back so I probably won't be able to update as often as I used to, but pleasebear with me 'cause I have no intentions of abandoning this fic. :)_

**_000_**

Later on that evening, Faramir continued to notice that the elves were not watching them as intently as they had previously.

In fact, to him it seemed as though they were looking for something-or someone and he was hoping that it wasn't reinforcements, but he wasn't sure; he was certain of one thing though, he knew that they had to escape before any of the elves' allies showed up, so he began to try strategize a good way for them to escape-even if he couldn't.

He couldn't help but eye the horses that were standing idly nearby, tied to trees.

"_Perhaps they could be our means of escape," _he thought to himself.

Medwyn seemed to be thinking the exact same thing, "My lord," he whispered. "Perhaps they could be of some use to us."

"I agree Medwyn," Faramir whispered back; "but we must be cautious for we cannot risk drawing suspicion."

"Of course, captain; we wouldn't want that, would we?" asked a voice.

They turned to find themselves staring at Gelmir. He was bruised just like the rest of them, but he also had a sneaky gleam in his eye.

"I did not see you there, Gelmir," Faramir stated, with an unreadable expression on his face.

"I know that you didn't my lord; but I couldn't help but find myself interested in the conversation-you were talking of our escape."

"Yes, yes; but we must be cautious or our plan could turn out badly."

"Of course my lord, I would never reveal our plans to the enemy-not even by accident," and he flashed them a smile-a sneaky one, but a smile nonetheless.

Medwyn shot Faramir a 'I-do-not-trust-him' look, and Faramir nodded very slightly, but Gelmir did not seem to notice the silent conversation between the two.

So he continued to speak. "My lord, when will we make our escape?"

"I do not know yet," Faramir replied, "I will let you know when the time is right."

000

After Eowyn's ride, she went to see Eomer and Theodred so that she could tell them of the new twist in their plan.

She had went to Theodred's quarters but found that he was not there so she went to Eomer's; when she knocked, the door opened quickly and she was hastily ushered in by Eomer.

When she entered she saw that Theodred was dressed in his formal armor.

"What is going on?" she asked.

"I have received a letter from father telling me to return to Rohan at once; he did not say why, nor did he mention for Eomer to accompany me-I fear that our plan of escape may be over before it has begun," said Theodred grimly.

"I disagree," said Eowyn. "Today in the stables I met with the Elven servant Arial, our meeting was by chance, but he told me that he was leaving Minas Tirith-for Mirkwood!"

Eomer and Theodred's expressions showed how relieved they were, but Eomer still thought that it would be best to take caution.

"How do we know that we can trust him?" Eomer asked.

"We talked, and I don't believe that he is lying-it is for his brother you see. And he has agreed to help me; I am to accompany him when he flees."

"I do not know," said a now unsure Eomer as he walked to the window.

Theodred stood beside him, "Eomer, you must listen to what Eowyn is saying: Arial could be her only chance of escape, and I also think that it would be safer, if I am to leave at once then there is no way that we can smuggle her out with me, and I am sure that Arial knows his way around this city better then we do. We must trust Eowyn on this, please cousin, I am asking this of you, for I want Eowyn free almost as much as she wants it herself, do not hinder her from doing so."

Eomer was silent for about a minute. Finally he spoke. "Alright, but just know that if the circumstances were different I would have gone with the safety over the stealth of an elf."

"I know it brother, I know it," said Eowyn, embracing her brother.

000

As Boromir was alone in his quarters, he began to reminisce what had gone on in the day thus far; he had never thought that he would see such a side of Eowyn as he did in the stables-he never thought that it had existed in her, but after what he had seen, he now saw her in a new light.

Maybe the one that was once thought cold and unlovable could be warm and capable of loving and being loved.

Maybe his new life would not be so bad after all.

000

Gelmir watched Faramir sleeping.

He narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth; he had never liked the captain of the Ithilien Rangers, he wouldn't have been surprised if Faramir knew it, but, as his feelings of jealousy began to surface, so did evil plans of dispatching their captain and taking over command at Henneth Annun.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head-in fact, it was more like a plan. What if he could make it look as though the captain had deserted his men? Then Faramir would be as good as dead anyway, for if he returned to Gondor, justice would be served on him whether he was the son of the steward or not, and he would be put to death as was the law for deserters.

Suddenly, Faramir opened his eyes and almost gasped when he saw those green cat-like eyes staring at him.

"I did not mean to startle you my lord," Gelmir said, smiling slyly.

"You did not," Faramir replied, staring at the Ranger uneasily.

"You ought to rest well captain, for we would not want to leave without you, and your only cause would be terrible fatigue."

"You need not worry, I am well rested," said Faramir, feeling a little uncomfortable under the sneaky man's gaze-more uncomfortable than usual.

"Good captain; very well; do you now know the hour?"

"I told you that I would let you know when the time was right-we cannot risk making a premature escape."

"I see your point my lord, it is a wise decision, and so I by no means question your judgment, but when you was in your deep slumber, I seemed to hear them mention something about approaching Haradrim."

This time Gelmir was telling the truth, when the Elven guards had returned from their now usual absence, he overheard them speak of Haradrim, and they did not seem as though they were preparing their defenses, in fact, they seemed as though they had been expecting them!

"Are you sure that is what you heard Gemlir?" Faramir asked.

"Yes my lord."

Then it was wise of you to tell me for now we _must_ try to escape prematurely for we cannot risk more company, and in a way it does make sense, for they did seem to me as though they were expecting someone."

"That is how it also seemed to me captain, but one can never be certain."

"Very well; awaken the others, for it is now or never."

One by one the men were awakened, and they all seemed well rested and prepared for the treacherous and dangerous escape, but they all had a single question, which Bard eventually asked.

"My lord, will it not be harder for us to ride? For although they untied the ropes on our ankles, we are all still bound at the wrists," said Bard.

"I know that it may prove difficult, but we must worry about those later-for we must try to reach Minas Tirith."

They all seemed to agree on this. So as the elves were on their absence, watching for signs of the Haradrim, they attempted to mount their chosen horses. There were about twenty-five horses, which was of course, more than enough. And to make things better, the horses were surprisingly obedient. So, seeing that there were no elves in sight, the group of sixteen men galloped away.

000

"It is an honor, my lord to be in your service as your advisor," said the red-haired man who looked to be in his mid to late twenties, but was in truth, thirty and nine.

"I need wise counsel and I know that you can give it to me Gelidir," replied Denethor.

"I will do the very best that I can my lord-the very best," said Gelidir.

"That I do not doubt, for you are wise and just, I know that you will be a very helpful advisor."

000

As the elves returned from watching the Harad road, they saw that the prisoners were no longer there, but they could see horses galloping in the distance; they instantly ran to Selwyn and told him all; he looked angry but he was not in the mood to blame them for their incompetence.

"Go after them, but if you can bring no others back, bring me back their captain-and bring him to me alive, now go!"

Faramir rode behind-not as he would usually do but things were different. He wanted to make sure that all of his men escaped-even Gelmir. But in the very near distance he could see horses galloping after them.

"We must ride faster; they are coming!" he shouted over the loud sounds of the horse hoofs.

Their horses picked up speed, and so did the elves' horses. And suddenly, the sound of an arrow whisked through the air and Faramir fell off his horse almost instantly, and he could do nothing but watch as his men rode further and further away, not realizing that their leader's horse had been shot, and that he was facing recapture.

000

That night, as Eowyn was lying in bed sleeping, there was an urgent knock on the door. It soon roused Eowyn out of her sleep and when she groggily opened the door, she found herself staring at the elf Arial.

"Yes…" she said, not sure why he had come. The temporary amnesia was due to her grogginess.

"The time has come my lady; the time has come for us to make our escape!"

Eowyn soon snapped out of her grogginess. "Now? Oh of course, you said that you would let me know; very well, if you would just give me a moment to get ready and gather my things-"

"Of course my lady," said the elf, almost unknowingly interrupting her. He left to give her some privacy.

When she had soon dressed and gathered her things-including a sword, she reopened the door.

"I am ready," she said.

_**A/N 2: **I hope that you guys enjoyed it, but even if you didn't, feel free to R&R and tell me what you think:)_


	13. The mysterious stranger

_**A/N: **Hey guys! I'm really pleased with the response that I've gotten so far on this fic! sorry for the late update; and I hope that I won't update so late next time:)_

_**000**_

Gelmir, who was riding just in front of Faramir, turned around to get a glance at their approaching enemies.

And then he saw his Captain on the ground with his dying horse; he slowed his horse down a little and looked ahead. His comrades were pretty far now, for they had ridden their horses to their full speed.

Suddenly an evil glint appeared in his eyes as he briefly watched the Shadow elves catch up with his Captain; all of a sudden, Faramir looked up and saw his fellow Ranger-he saw that evil gleam in his eyes.

Faramir said nothing, for it was a good chance that Gelmir would not hear it for the sound of the horse's hoofs was very loud indeed; but what he was thinking was written on his face, he had the expression of one who had been betrayed-and he was right to feel that way. Gelmir turned back around and galloped out of sight.

It was impossible for Faramir to move; the now dead horse was laying on him, so he could do nothing but lay still as the elves caught up with him. They caught up with him so fast that he thought he was going to be trampled upon, a raven-haired elf dismounted and beckoned to two other elves to help him lift the horse.

They seemed to lift the dead horse with ease, and the raven-haired elf roughly lifted Faramir to his feet, and then he spoke to the two that helped him lift the horse.

"Burn the horse, we do not want to leave it here as a sign that someone traveled this way."

The elves obeyed, and as they set back off for the camp Faramir could smell the fumes of the flames.

Faramir was being led by the raven-haired elf, and he dreaded his return to the camp for he knew that he was going to have to face the consequences-and they would be very harsh.

They soon returned to the camp and he was roughly shoved into the tent, and two other elves went in with him. Inside was Selwyn, he appeared to be looking over a map of some sort; when he saw heard the elves enter he looked up. Anyone who looked at him at that moment would have been able to have seen the fury in his eyes.

"Is he the only one who you was able to recapture?" he asked, somewhat coolly despite how he really felt.

"Yes; we shot his horse and so he was trapped," replied a blond elf.

"Good; but the next time you show such incompetence again I will have both of your heads."

The two elves swallowed hard but said nothing; they looked quite fearful.

"So _Ranger_, I should have known that you would have attempted something like this," he said, walking away from the table and up to Faramir. "But I did not expect such reckless behavior from a captain."

"You may call it what you wish 'Selwyn' but I do not answer to you."

"I did not say that you did-but you will, for you shall be taught a lesson which you will never forget; your worthless Rangers may have escaped, but you will never, for once we reach our final destination you will be begging at my feet for mercy but you will not get it, I have no sympathy for you _Gondorian_," he spat.

"I care not for your sympathy; you have no reason to hold me captive," Faramir said, he was not afraid to stand up to the elf-even though he had been beaten severely for doing so.

"I see that I will have to teach you a lesson-again, for you do not take heed."

And with a gesture of his hand the two elves dragged Faramir outside and began to beat him ruthlessly; it did not take long until his nose began to bleed and blood began to spill out of his mouth, much like the first time he had been beaten badly.

He tried to fight them off but it was useless, they were very strong-much stronger than him and they were determined to beat him worse than the first time.

He groaned in pain as a hard punch was delivered to his face. Faramir was soon almost completely covered in blood as it stained the grass once more; only then did the evil elves stop; only then were they satisfied; for they had accomplished what they had been commanded to do.

000

Arial and Eowyn moved like shadows, none saw them for almost everyone in the city slept; they took two horses from the stables: Eowyn had taken her beloved horse Windfola for she had not felt right about escaping with the horse that her husband had just given her as a gift.

Arial took a beautiful brown stallion, and so as they cautiously rode near to the gates, they were relieved to see that they were open, but, as it turned out, there were two guards patrolling nearby.

Arial swallowed; he had not expected this, but nonetheless he was prepared. He had seen Gondorian soldiers on patrol by the gates before, and he knew that if he only remained patient and waited for the opportune moment that he and Eowyn could escape.

"What now?" Eowyn asked in a whisper.

"We wait; I am certain that we will get an opportunity if we just stay out of their sight."

Eowyn nodded; she didn't know the city half as well as Arial did so she knew that it was best to listen to him, although her stomach was doing terrible butterflies.

Finally, after what seemed like they had been waiting forever, the opportune moment came; the soldiers left their post.

"Why did they do that? Wouldn't it be dangerous for them to let up their guard?" Eowyn asked, not understanding the situation, but not exactly disliking it.

"They are switching shifts, I know that it is not the smartest way but they do it anyhow-but we will take this as our opportunity, and we must ride-and not look back."

Eowyn nodded, and so without delaying a moment longer, they sprung out from their hiding place and galloped through the gate and out onto the Pelennor.

By the time they were almost out of sight two more guards returned to the gate, and they spotted two figures on horseback in the distance.

One of the soldiers strained his eyes to see who they were.

"We must fetch some horses and go after them!" he said.

But the other held him back; "we would be too late anyways."

000

Gelmir had ridden hard and without rest so that he could catch up with his fellow Rangers again; finally he saw a small fire, and then he knew that he had found them.

They were all sitting around the small fire warming their hands; they looked up when they heard the sound of horse hoofs, and were disappointed that Gelmir had come and lord Faramir was nowhere to be seen.

"Where is Captain Faramir?" Medwyn asked grimly.

Gelmir did not answer for a moment, and he had a grim expression on his face, finally he told them, his twisted side of the story.

"I rode behind with Captain Faramir, but I thought that I needn't worry about looking behind to make sure that all was well with lord Faramir; but as I have learnt to trust my instincts, I looked behind, for they told me to do so; and I saw lord Faramir riding away from us, and I could have been killed for an arrow whisked very close to me, but I rode after him for surely, I thought that Captain Faramir would not desert us, but I was wrong; I rode after him and called him, and I am certain that he heard me but he continued to ride on; at last I had to return and follow the rest of you-for I would not desert you as our Captain had done."

Medwyn was enraged by what he had heard; he knew that Faramir would never desert his men; he would rather die than do so. "You lying pig!" he yelled, and he placed a well aimed, well deserved punch right in the middle of Gelmir's face.

Gelmir stumbled back a few feet and covered his bloody nose with his hand, but blood could still be seen seeping through his fingers.

"You know that Captain would never desert us; you lying wretch!" shouted a still very angry Medwyn.

"I understand how hard it is to accept the truth for I did not want to believe it either, but are you going to be a fool! I saw him with my own two eyes: he rode away from us! He deserted us!"

"You are lying! Captain Faramir is more loyal than you could ever wish to be! Swine!" was Medwyn's reply, as several Ranger's held him back so that he wouldn't lunge at Gelmir again.

"You cannot say that! For you was not there! I was there I tell you! With my own two eyes I saw him desert us! He is a deserter, and whether he is or _was_ our Captain it matters not; when we return to Minas Tirith I will make sure that justice is served upon him as it is with other deserters; whether I am the only one to stand up and ask for justice or no; it will be done-justice will be served upon him!"

"You are a wicked beast!" Darcyn yelled. "You must have gone through a lot of trouble to try to make this sound as believable as possible but I know, as do all of our fellow Ranger's know that Captain Faramir would never desert anyone-not even _you_!"

"You do not know him then, or you are simply in denial; I came to show you that he isn't the man that you think he is. And am I disappointed? Yes! I looked up to the man, he was my Captain and as far as I knew he was a great man, but that is not so! I could not believe what I was seeing and so I followed him and called after him; I would have killed him myself for desertion but mercy stayed my hand, and I returned and tried to find all of you, that it was turned me back; I am very disappointed in you all. You are all ignorant and in denial! You refuse to believe the truth when I witnessed it with my own eyes!"

It took everything that the Ranger's had, to maintain their honor and hold back the fuming Medwyn and the enraged Darcyn.

"I do not mean to hurt you all, but you _must_ believe me!"

"Never," Medwyn hissed.

000

When Eowyn and Arial had journeyed a considerable distance from Minas Tirith, they agreed to stop at an inn so they could rest for at least a few hours.

They stopped at a slightly rundown inn, for they figured that their identity would be better concealed there. When they entered the inn, there was an old balding man at the desk; they figured that he was the owner of the inn, for they noticed him ordering some of the others around.

When they approached the desk, the old dirty man looked at them with uncertainty. "What can I do you?" he asked, eyeing them somewhat suspiciously.

"We would like to book one room for the night," said Arial.

The old man shot Arial an unfriendly look. "We don't get your kind here-at least not very often."

"We will pay just about anything; we do not mean to cause you any trouble," said Eowyn.

"That'll be three pieces of silver," he said greedily.

"Very Well," said Eowyn, placing the money on the desk.

The old man took it eagerly. "I'm guessing that you'd be hungry; would you want one of my folks to fix you a meal?"

"That would be very good, thank you," replied Arial.

"You can go into the common room and wait for it if you want to," said the old man, his tone turning friendlier thanks to the large sum of money that he had received.

And so they went into the common room to wait for their meal, and also to discuss what they were going to do next.

"I say that we take turns sleeping-we only need a few hours, and so one of us can always keep watch just in case…" Eowyn's voice trailed off.

"In case Gondorian soldiers come looking for us," Arial finished.

"Yes," said Eowyn, not really wanting to think about anything that had to do with Gondor at that time.

Soon their dinner was served to them, which was hot soup and bread which they ate hungrily; finally, after they had eaten, it was decided that Arial would take his rest first for Eowyn insisted that she wasn't tired.

So Eowyn stayed in the common room, occasionally looking out of the window, expecting to see Gondorian soldiers, but as she sat down and tried to conceal her anxiety, she noticed, out of the corner of her eye that someone was staring at her.

She turned to her left to see who it was; it was a man with dark hair; she couldn't see his features properly due to the dimly lit room, but she knew that her noticing him had not deterred his gaze.


	14. Bearing the scars of selfless bravery

Eowyn shifted uncomfortably, and she continuously glanced at the man out of the corner of her eye.

Did he recognize her?

Did he know that she was running away?

These thoughts flashed through Eowyn's mind as she sat uneasily, yet she tried not to draw any suspicion to herself.

The dark-haired man got up from where he was sitting and walked right up to her.

Eowyn looked down in an attempt to avoid his gaze.

"Do you mind if I join you my lady?" he asked.

"No; I do not," said Eowyn, briefly looking up at him. It appeared to her that he was some sort of Ranger, for he was surely dressed as one.

"It is an odd thing to see a lady such as you in a place like this," he remarked.

Eowyn had a feeling that he had an idea of who she was, so that made her a little nervous. "I am sure that stranger things have happened," she replied coolly.

"Are you journeying alone my lady?" he asked, leaning forward a little, and talking in a whisper.

"I do not see how that information would profit you in any way," she replied.

"The captain of Gondor'swife should not journey alone, my lady," he said, looking straight into her eyes.

Eowyn swallowed; this man knew who she was, and worst of all she_ didn't_ know who he was. He could be a Gondorian soldier in disguise! "Who are you?" she asked finally, she talked rather calmly considering that fact that she was screaming from fear inside.

"I would prefer it if you called me Strider, as most do,"

"Very well; well, it was very nice meeting with you Strider, but I must go now," said Eowyn attempting to stand up and leave. But she stopped dead in her tracks when Strider spoke.

"You are attempting to run away, are you not, my lady?"

Eowyn whirled around to face him; his expression was unreadable, but hers was expressionless and cold as stone. "How do you know me?" she asked.

"Rangers have a way of knowing people, it can be by word of mouth or perhaps a live sighting; but I do know you lady Eowyn. And in truth I do not know where you are running to, but it is unwise to take rest when you are still not very far from Minas Tirith."

Eowyn stared at him coldly, "You do not know that I am running away, and I do not owe you an explanation of any sort. And I would be pleased if you left me alone."

"I would, my lady; but I care for your safety."

This 'Strider' was too mysterious for Eowyn, she did not know him, yet he seemed as though he knew herfrom birth!

"Why do you care for my safety _Strider_?" Eowyn asked, not sure whether to stay or go.

"That would be a long story my lady, but tell me then, where is your destination?"

Eowyn looked into his eyes steadily. How did she know that he could be trusted? If she told him that she was going to Mirkwood, she would not only be endangering her escape, but Arial's also.

"What is it to you?" she asked.

"As I said before, I care for your safety my lady, but you are not obligated to tell me and you may leave as you intended to-if you wish."

000

Faramir awoke to a terrible pain in his side, not to mention the other countless cuts which he sustained due to his brutal beating; his mind instantly went to his men and of course that unforgettable betrayal by Gelmir.

Faramir hoped that his men were safe-even Gelmir, for he had paid a terrible price for their escape; and it was needless to say that he would do it again if it meant their guaranteed safety.

Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted as he heard the sounds of feet approaching the tent that he was in. He was no longer in Selwyn's tent, for this one was smaller and Faramir guessed that the lower ranked elves slept in tents such as the one he was in.

A red-haired man came in the tent; he looked to be in his mid twenties. Faramir was shocked for he didn't think that there were men amongst the Shadow Elves; his expression was softer than the other elves that Faramir had seen-excluding Morwen.

The young man didn't seem to notice that Faramir was awake; he neatly laid some clothes near to Faramir.

He looked over the supposedly sleeping Ranger, and seemed guilt stricken.

"My lord!" he said. "If only there was some way that I could set you free."

Faramir opened his eyes instantly; causing the young man's heart to jump. Faramir sat up slowly, and looked the young man in the eye. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Galen, my lord," the redhead replied.

"You are of Gondorian descent, are you not?" Faramir asked.

"Yes my lord; my father was of Gondor, my mother was of Mirkwood."

Until now Faramir noticed that he hadn't seen the young man's ears; if hewould have seen them then he would have guessed the he was half-Elven.

"How did you come to be in Selwyn's service?" asked Faramir; for to him Galen did not look like the kind that would serve Sauron-but neither did Morwen.

"By force, my lord; although I was born in Minas Tirith I love Dol Amroth as _though_ I were born there…I know that I shall never live to see that land again…" his voice trailed off for a moment, and then he regained his composure. "The three of us-my father my mother and I, were journeying from Minas Tirith to Mirkwood when we were ambushed near Cair Andros; I was taken captive, but my mother and father were set freeand I was taken away-right before their eyes. Why they let them go without bringing harm tothem, I do not know; I have never seen them since, but even though they have forcibly put me into their service I do _not_ serve Sauron; although I cannot say that they didn't try to make me serve that creature of the abyss."

"Oh thank God!" said Faramir accidentally speaking that thought out loud.

"There are a few others here who were forcibly taken from their lands and forced to wander with Selwyn," said the half-Elven Galen.

"What of Morwen? _Does _she worship Sauron?" Faramir asked; he believed she did, but now when he really thought on her kindness and all that she had done for him he wasn't so sure.

"No; she does not. She is different from Selwyn in many ways."

Faramir noticed the clothes that were lying next to him; they were almost identical to Galen's and the other elves of the camp. "Why do I have to dress in the attire of Selwyn's followers?"

Galen looked down for a second. "We are going to the dark land."

000

Eowyn did not go.

Instead she reluctantly sat backdown and tried to figure out how 'Strider' knew who she was and that she was running away.

As it turned out, Strider almost seemed as though he wanted to help her, but he kept many things about himself hidden from her, he was indeed a very mysterious man, for he also knew a great deal about Rohan. But all in all, Eowyn was certain that he could be trusted, and she didn't want him to think otherwise for if he reported that he knew who she was and where she was headed, then she and Arial would most certainly be caught.

"Where is your destination, Strider?" Eowyn asked, interrupting a brief silence between them.

"I am going to Imladris," as he said 'Imladris' his eyes seemed to light up; "but first I am going to pass through the Woodland realm, for there is someone there that I need to see; if you are uncertain of your original route you may join me. Mirkwood is a very safe place for someone who wishes to hide."

"It is not just me," said Eowyn, not at this moment realizing how much she was opening up to Strider. "There is also an Elven-man with me; we are journeying to Mirkwood together."

"An elf in Gondor-that is not at all common, but I suppose that I could help you both."

"That's just it; why do you wish to help me although you do not know me—personally?"

For the first time in the conversation, Strider shifted his gaze, some could almost say uncomfortably; but once again he met Eowyn's gaze with a soft one. "That would take a long time to explain my lady, and I would have to tell you some things that you need not hear about right now."

"Then how do I know that I can trust you? You could be a vagabond who would tell the soldiers of my whereabouts if they offered you a mug of ale!"

"You, my lady, decided that I could be trusted when you confirmed to me thatyou was running away; but I am not one to betray, my lady, you have my word on that."

To Eowyn, Strider was simply too mysterious, but yet she didn't exactly wish that she hadn't met him; there was something about the Ranger, but she just could not pin it, and his being cloudy about certain things did not help her to pinpoint it either.

000

The Rangers rode through the night; they had been able to free themselves from the rope just a few hours earlier, but the flesh at their wrists was raw from the tightness of the rope, and, unfortunately for some of the Rangers, they would often bleed.

Gelmir, however, had been unusually quiet throughout their riding, for he spoke not a word to them but kept to himself.

The Rangers were pleased with this arrangement for it made it easier to control their raging tempers-it was _easier_ but still, not very easy.

000

Gelidir was, by nature, a soldier of Gondor, and so he was to the present day. But his friendship with the steward had started when he had taken not one, but two arrows for Boromir at Osgiliath; it was a nothing short of a miracle that he had survived, and before he was released from the houses of healing, Denethor had eagerly requested to meet the 'Man who the two arrows for my beloved son.' And so his wish had been granted and they were able to meet.

Denethor took such a liking to Gelidir, in fact, that he had been permitted to come and see him whenever he had wished. It so turned out that Gelidir was also a very wise man and this pleased Denethor immensely. And so that is how he came to appoint Gelidir as his advisor.

Gelidir still bore the scars of his selfless deed; for he had, in fact, pushed Boromir out of the way just in the knick of time and that left no time for him to dodge the arrows, and he had felt that he had done nothing special-just his sworn duty, and would, without question do it again in a heartbeat.

He bore a mark of one of the arrow wounds on his shoulder, and the other hadbarely missed his ribs.

As he lay in his bed that night, he thought about the moment when he had saved his Captain's life; he had, of course also gained favor of the stewards youngest and eldest sons.

Even though he had been honored to have been chosen as the stewards advisor, he had felt out of place, for his rightful place was out on the battlefield, side by side with his Captain.

_**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews! not one review goes unappreciated; well, I hope that you guys enjoyed chappy fourteen. Feel free to R&R to tell me what you thought about it:)_


	15. Faramir is accused before the steward

_**A/N: **Thanks to all those who read and reviewed this story so far! I know that this chappy is a bit boring, but please bear with me because I promise that the next one will be better. I hope that you guys enjoy at least some of it :D_

**Jedi Knight247**

**_000_**

"The…dark land?" Faramir asked; the expression on his face was one of disbelief.

"Yes-the dark land; I have been there quite a few times myself-that was where they tried to bring me under subjection," said Galen, running a restless hand through his hair as he was remembering his ordeals in that dark place.

"Why—when are we going?" Faramir asked.

"When the reinforcements from Harad arrive-then we will set our course for Mordor."

The very word 'Mordor' triggered a momentary silence in the small tent, and then Galen broke it for he realized that he had stayed longer than he should have.

"I must go now my lord, and once again…" he momentarily glanced at the tent flap as some shadows passed by. "I…I'm sorry."

And before Faramir could say anything else to the half-Elven young man, he slipped out of the tent.

000

After her conversation with Strider, Eowyn had gone to the room which she and Arial had rented for a few hours; and she had told Arial everything that had happened.

"Are you certain that we can trust this Ranger?" Arial asked.

"I am certain, but he is a very mysterious man; he still did not explain how he knew me-I am not saying that he cannot be trusted; for I am sure that he can-it's just that he's so mysterious."

"So we are to journey to Mirkwood with him?"

"I told him that we would consider his offer, but he is only giving us half of an hour to decide, for that is when he is leaving; I would have accepted it, but I could not make such a decision without you, for you are in this as much as I am."

Arial seemed to be thinking for a moment, and finally he answered; "I think that it would be wise to accept his offer; it would be wise to travel with a Ranger."

After they had come to an agreement, they returned to the common room, where they were to meet with Strider to tell him yes or no; Eowyn spotted him sitting at the far side of the room. He looked up just in time to see them coming.

"We have decided to accept your offer," Eowyn said, almost in a hushed voice.

"You have made a wise decision; I suppose that we shall set out at once."

To this they made no objection, for they had their packs with them and so, they saw no reason to linger.

So they left the inn with Strider in hopes of reaching Mirkwood before it had been discovered that they had run away.

000

The next day when Boromir and Denethor had their break of fast, Eowyn was not there; this had puzzled Boromir, but he was sure that he knew why she was upset: Theodred had had to leave early due to an urgent letter from the lord of the Mark, King Théoden; and she was also worried, due to the declining health of her uncle. He could not blame her for suddenly turning recluse, but he knew that his father would not stand for it. And he was right.

"She must learn that there is a time to conceal your emotions, and there is to show them; now is not the time for her to show them! For by showing them she is also showing great disrespect. Boromir, as her husband you must break this from her; it is unacceptable!"

"It would also be disrespectful father, to storm up to her quarters and drag her down and force her to eat break of fast with us; father, you of all people should know that women tend to showcase their emotions more than we do," said Boromir, trying to defend Eowyn, for he felt compassion for her.

"Do not tell me what I should know and what I shouldn't! This is no way for the future steward of Gondor's wife to act; bring her down this instant!"

"Father, do not get so riled up; I am sure that there won't be many mornings like this-we must bear with her for she is not used to things as they are here."

Denethor, seeing that his son wasn't going to bring her down called to a guard.

"Simeon, find Arial and tell him to bring lady Eowyn down at once."

"Yes my lord," replied the obedient guard and he left to fetch the Elven servant.

"Father, I cannot let you do this," said Boromir rising from the table; "I will not allow you to treat her with such disrespect," and with that he left, hoping to reach Eowyn before Arial. Little did he know that he was too late!

000

Denethor's food did not look good to him anymore.

The brief but slightly heated argument with his son had soured his appetite; suddenly he could hear voices coming from the hall; he could make out someone pleading to speak with the steward.

"You may let them in!" Denethor called; he did not like the thought of begging people in the hall.

And so the large double doors opened, and in walked fifteen Rangers; all of which he had sent to accompany Faramir on the perilous task. But where was Faramir?

In unison they went to one knee, in reverence for the steward. After they had stood up again, Medwyn was the first to speak.

"My lord, it was impossible; there were too few of us and too many of them!"

"Where is my son?" Denethor asked, half expecting them to say that he fell to the sword of their enemy.

"I know not my lord; but Gelmir has decided to come up with something false-he claims my lord that Captain Faramir deserted us, but he never would do such a thing; he would rather die my lord, as his-''

"Desertion?" Denethor asked, interrupting Medwyn.

"Yes my lord, but we all know that he is telling a lie," answered Medwyn.

"Gelmir," said Denethor, "how came you to think that my son deserted you?"

So, Gelmir told Denethor everything, from their capture to their escape (of course adding his false version of what happened)

"So there were no other witnesses out of the rest of you? No one else witnessed this betrayal?"

"No, my lord," replied Darcyn, putting his head down as one who has been defeated. "But I know—all _fifteen_ of us know that lord Faramir would not desert a single one of us; not even Gelmir."

"But you did not see or witness it?" Denethor sighed, knowing their answer; "leave me," he said.

"My lord, you cannot possibly-'' said one of the Rangers.

"I said leave me!" shouted Denethor.

And so that left them no choice but to leave the steward and hope that he would not believe Gelmir's lies.

000

Boromir, believing that he had reached Eowyn's quarters before Arial, knocked hastily on the door, after knocking for a few times, it opened and Boromir found himself staring into the face of Eowyn's maid, Norah; her face seemed somewhat guilt stricken when she saw him, but nonetheless she tried to maintain her composure.

"May I speak with lady Eowyn-I will only be a moment."

Norah's mind raced rapidly, she knew that this moment would come. "She is busy right now my lord; if you could just wait for a mom-''

"Would it be too much for me to speak with my wife for a moment?"

When Boromir worded it like that, it was hard for her to say anything else besides, "Of course, my lord."

"My thanks…" Boromir's voice trailed off, for he knew not her name.

Norah knew this, and so she corrected him. "Norah, my lord."

"Well, my thanks Norah," said Boromir, as he stepped in.

Norah closed the remaining open door of the double doors after him, and feared what might happen next.

Boromir looked through Eowyn's quarters-but he couldn't find Eowyn; he was quite puzzled by this, but it didn't strike his mind that she had vanished, or in other words, had run away. Finally he came back to Norah, who looked a little nervous.

"Where is lady Eowyn? For she isn't here," his tone was not one of anger, but of concern.

Norah put her head down, for she felt shameful-in fact, she felt responsible for Eowyn running away, although she was not exactly for the escape.

"You are right about that my lord; she isn't here."

Boromir frowned out of confusion; Norah had just made it obvious that Eowyn was there, and now she was saying something pretty contrary. "It's obvious that she isn't here, but where is she? I am sure that she has been quite upset today-am I right?"

"I could not answer that my lord…as for the first question, I simply cannot answer it."

Boromir was getting a little frustrated; he just wanted to know where Eowyn was, what was so difficult about that?

"Norah, why is it so hard for you to just answer? Where is Eowyn!"

"My lord…she's gone," Norah replied, making it plain and clear.

"She's gone? What are you talking about?" Boromir asked, hoping that he was wrong in assuming what Norah meant.

"She is not here-she has run away."

Those words struck Boromir harder than a ton of bricks and for a moment his face went almost deathly pale.

Finally, he took Norah firmly by the shoulders, but not in a way that would cause her harm or make her feel threatened. "Where is she? Where has she run to!"

"My lord, I cannot say!"  
Boromir let go of her shoulders and knelt down to her level so that he could see the windows to her soul. "You cannot or you will not?"

Norah put her head down, for she almost felt that he could really see through her soul. "I am not at liberty to say my lord; I could not…" she cut herself off.

"I know that the two of you spent a great deal of time together; so you must know-you must tell me where she is!" said Boromir, running his hands through his hair nervously. "She is my wife I _must_ know where she is! Surely you do not think that I would bring harm to her?"

"I know that you would do no such thing my lord…it was not my wish that she should run away-but if you know anything about the us Rohirric people then you should know how stubborn we can be at times."

Boromir caught Norah's gaze again and spoke to her, she could hear the anger in his voice. "Whether you tell me where she is or not, I will find her," and after saying those words, he stood up and left, leaving Norah alone and sitting on a chair, still reeling over his last words.

000

Denethor and Gelidir were discussing what Gelmir had claimed, when a guard entered, saying that Simeon wanted to speak with Denethor immediately, for it was urgent.

"Bring him in then," said Denethor.

The doors opened and in walked Simeon, the guard that had been told to find Arial; he, of course, went on one knee.

"You may rise now, and tell me why it took you so long to find a single elf!" Denethor commanded.

"My lord, he has vanished! There is no sign of him in the entire city; we have searched and searched for him, and we have asked people, but none have seen him-not since yester eve. The only thing that might give an indication was when I talked with some of the men on guard, and they said that last night two guards spotted two people on horseback riding across the Pelennor, but they were too far to be stopped or followed."

Denethor was silent for a moment, and then he spoke again; "This claim could very well be true, but if it is, then who was riding alongside him?"


	16. The Elven language

_**A/N: **Sorry for the late update, but thanks for the reviews! I espicially hope that **Lothiriel** enjoys this chapter._

_Thanks guys!_

**_000_**

When the still cut and bruised Faramir awakened from his very brief and uneasy sleep he could hear the sound of marching soldiers.

"Haradrim," he said out loud; it had been obvious that they were going to come soon, for the elves had been watching and waiting for them.

He slowly rose to his feet and peered out of the tent. Some of the elves were taking down some of the tents; a few others were stamping out the fires.

Faramir looked up at the sky: it was a black and starless night; he shrunk back inside the tent for he did not wish to have an encounter with any Haradrim.

He had only been back inside of his tent for a few moments when the flap lifted and in walked Galen.

"I see that the reinforcements from Harad have finally come," remarked Faramir.

"Yes my lord-we are to set out immediately, so you must dress in your Elven attire now or Selwyn might punish you."

Faramir gave a slight nod to indicate that he would rather dress as an elf than be punished by one; and so Galen slipped out of the tent once again, giving Faramir his privacy.

000

Boromir sat alone in his quarters: he was in a crossover between angry, confused, and worried. Norah had just told him the thing that he had least expected: Eowyn had run away. Still, to him it seemed as though he was dreaming-in other words unreal; and so he had to constantly remind himself that it was real and that he could do nothing else but find a way to bring her back as soon and safely as possible.

"She could be leagues away by now!" he groaned to himself; just when he had thought that there was a chance that they could work thing out and be like a normal husband and wife-and be happy, then she had run away to only God knows where.

He tried to think of what he had done wrong to make her want to run away; he could understand that she would feel like running away when they had just gotten married, but now he thought that they were starting to work things out. Frankly at that point in time-he didn't understand; he wished that she would have talked to him about how she was feeling-if not him then somebody else who might have been able to help her.

But now it was too late-Boromir couldn't even dream of running away from his duty; he knew that it was wrong that their futures had been decided for them without them even being allowed so much as a say in the matter, but to him what Eowyn had done was something very foolish and reckless. He was determined to bring he back to Gondor-even if he had to set out and find her himself.

000

The trio had not rested, for they were desperately trying to leave Gondor before word got out the Eowyn and Arial had escaped; it seemed like an easy task to Strider, for he knew secret ways of all sorts, so when he told Eowyn that they were to pass through Rohan in order to reach Mirkwood, she did not doubt that they would make it through safely and undetected-Arial had been rather quiet, yet he was anxious for his brothers life was on the line and he knew that he _had_ to reach him.

They had taken a rest just outside of Gondor; Strider had found a safe cave for them to stay in, for he said that he could tell by the change of the winds that a storm was fast approaching.

Arial rested, but he did not sleep-how could he? He was, in truth half afraid of what he might have dreamt, for the last thing he wanted was his brother dead.

Eowyn did not sleep either; instead, she joined Strider who was sitting at the entrance of the cave.

"You should be resting; we have a long journey ahead of us," he said softly.

"Then you should be sleeping too then," Eowyn remarked.

"Then who will watch out for danger?" Strider asked her. "Please, my lady, lie down for you do not know when you may get the chance to rest again."

"Then that is a chance that I must take-how can I thank you for agreeing to do this for us?" Eowyn asked, out of the blue.

"I do not wish to be repaid or rewarded my lady," he said, still staring out into the wild.

"Are you always wandering in the wild?" Eowyn asked, for it seemed to her that he knew every shortcut and every hidden path or cave that had ever existed.

"Most of the time," he answered; his voice seemed a little wistful, for now his mind was journeying back to Rivendell-the Elven land that he had grown to love as though it were his by right of birth-but in truth, he was not; he belonged to a different country-the one which he had just journeyed out of.

Was he to return again?

Only he would know that for certain.

Eowyn seemed to notice the wistfulness in his eyes, and she was about to say something, but stopped herself and closed her mouth.

They had been sitting in silence for a little while. Both were staring out into the wild, yet their hearts and minds were in different places:

Eowyn was thinking about their daring escape and was hoping that they would not get caught; her mind also drifted to Rohan, her native land which they were to pass through when the storm ceased-oh how she missed Rohan, its beautiful green plains, Meduseld, also known as the golden hall, being able to ride out freely whether it was with her brother and cousin or whether she just wanted to ride alone with her beautiful faithful horse Windfola.

Now, speaking of which, the horses were beginning to act wildly: they had been put safely in the back of the cave, so that the storm would not rile them up half as bad, but obviously that was not working.

Strider knew this, and so he stood up, "I'll go and calm the horses down my lady; you may stay here and keep watch if you wish."

Eowyn watched him walk away; he had only been gone a few moments when she did not hear the whining of the horses anymore; she got up and walked over to where the horse were, and she found Strider speaking in a beautiful tongue: Elvish. She had heard Prince Imrahil's Lothiriel speak in this beautiful language to one of her servants, and so she had approached her about it.

Lothiriel was a very soft-spoken graceful young woman; if one didn't know better they would assume that she was a pure Elven woman.

Eowyn had known about the elvish language, yet she _didn't_ know it, and so Lothiriel had briefly taught her a few words before returning to Dol Amroth; it was one of Eowyn's regrets that she and lady Lothiriel were unable to spend time together.

"Where did you learn the language of the elves?" Eowyn asked, walking up beside Strider.

"Rivendell," he replied, "I did not know that you understood the language."

"I do not know many words-I was taught only a few," Eowyn said.

"I am sure that one day you will be able to learn it in its entirety as I have."

Eowyn smiled lightly; there was so much to Strider, and the more she learned about him, the more she wanted to know. In other words, she found Strider very intriguing.

000

Earlier that day, Denethor had dismissed Simeon and had retreated to his chambers; he had refused to allow anyone inside. He did not even eat dinner, for his mind was being haunted, and tormented to the point where he could not bear it any longer; and the more that he wrestled with his own mind, the more tempting it seemed to look into the Palantir.

After all, that was the reason why he was feeling as he was at that time, but he forced his will against it and tried to sleep.

_There were thousands of them-possibly millions of them; Orcs. They had broken down all of Gondor's defenses, and they had broken through the gate._

_He stood from the highest level of the city and watched-he watched as Orcs mercilessly killed man, woman, child and beast. The dark shadow of Mordor had now engulfed Minas Tirith, and it seemed as though the darkness was choking the very life out of the city; men ran for their lives only to be hammered to death by a troll or some other foul creature._

_Finally, he saw flames-flames engulfing the city, he could hear the cracking of the stone walls which had once been their safety and protection, but that day was passed; Minas Tirith was falling…_

Denethor sat up in bed; sleep was a bad idea, but it was too late now. He had to look into the Palantir once more, even if it meant a battle with the very will of Sauron…

000

When Faramir had changed into the elvish clothes which had been provided to him, he heard footsteps outside of the tent; he could see a tall shadow outside; he hoped with all his heart that it was not Selwyn.

It wasn't that he was scared of the elf-for he wasn't; he just did not like him at all, and apparently he knew that he wasn't the only one who felt that way.

The tent flap lifted and in walked an elf with dark brunette hair, but the thing was, it was not a man but a woman!

Her face was expressionless and unreadable, but she obviously had reasons for entering the tent.

Faramir said nothing, but eyed her curiously; finally, after a moment's silence, the Elven-woman spoke.

"I see that you are ready. Selwyn commanded that you come with me."

"_I care not what Selwyn says; I do not answer to him and I never will!" _Was what Faramir was thinking, but due to the damage that his body had sustained, he figured that it would be better for him if he did not voice his thoughts.

So, instead, he rose to his feet; he was glad that he no longer had those tight ropes around his wrists, but he still bore the marks from them as did his fellow Rangers.

Just by looking into the Elven woman's green eyes one would be able to tell that she was very strong willed, as did Faramir.

Before she led him outside of the tent she quickly whispered something to him:

"To avoid getting into a worse situation, I suggest that you do as Selwyn says and act as though you are one of us-make sure that your ears are covered."

And so that was all that she said to Faramir before leading him out of the tent and to where the rest of Selwyn's followers were.

For some reason, they were all standing in a straight line, and Faramir spotted Galen which gave him some form of comfort.

He soon could see at the end of the line that a Haradrim man was walking through, and examining the elves. Selwyn was walking beside him, answering his questions and so forth.

He stopped at the fair Elven-lady, Morwen. He lifted her chin somewhat roughly and seemed to examine her features; anyone standing near could see that this did not please Selwyn one bit.

He walked a little further, examining other elves until he stopped at Galen; to him Galen did not seem to be Elven at all, for he looked like a Gondorian. So he examined Galen's face as he did with Morwen, and muttered something about how expensive one like that would be. And then he roughly grabbed Galen's hair, causing him to let out a yelp. But it also revealed his Elven ears-just what the Haradrim wanted to know.

Finally, after more examining he stopped at Faramir; Faramir held his breath for he knew that the man might examine to see if he had Elven ears; Selwyn seemed to notice this and he seemed somewhat nervous.

The Haradrim man eyed him intensely, while Selwyn swallowed hard.

"So, tell me," said the Haradrim to Faramir. "Are you also half-Elven?"


	17. Tatiana

_**A/N: **I hope that you guy's enjoy the chappy, and don't forget to review:)_

**_Jedi Knight 247_**

**_000_**

Before Faramir could answer, Selwyn stepped between them.

"Leave him alone Sherah; he and the half-Elven are brothers."

"Is that so?" Sherah sneered, "The two of them would sell for a large sum in Harad-or Mordor."

"We have an agreement! You do not mess with my and I do not sell your Haradrim to Mordor!"

"Unless given my permission," Sherah finished, he then turned his attention back to Faramir; "There is something about him, he does not look Elven to me."

"He is! Now let us move on, for we have much more important things to discuss," said Selwyn, walking a small distance and ushering for Sherah to follow.

Giving one last look at the one whom he was convinced wasn't an elf-or half Elven, he turned and followed Selwyn.

Soon the line in which the elves had stood broke apart and the elves busied themselves around what was left of the camp.

Faramir, seeing that he was still being watched to some degree decided against another attempt to run away.

As he looked to his right he saw a stream…he was so thirsty, and so without another thought, he walked up to the stream; he could almost feel the keen eyes of the Elven guards as they watched him intently; as he knelt down to take a drink, he heard a voice behind him.

"Perhaps you had better use this instead of your hands."

He had only heard that voice briefly, but he recognized it: it was the voice of the Elven-woman who had led him out to stand in line with the other elves, but he did not know her name.

He looked up to see that she too was kneeling by the stream; she had filled a wooden bowl that was not too deep and she handed it to Faramir, who thanked her and drank it eagerly.

She also began to fill some water skins with the cool, crisp water of the stream. Faramir couldn't help but notice that there was a somewhat saddened look on her fair face.

"Will this also be your first time?-going beyond the black gates?" he asked suddenly.

She fixed her green eyes on him in a way that made him feel as though she could see right through him. "No," she answered.

Seeing that she had a lot of water skins to feel, and also seeing that she was a woman, Faramir took some and began to help her fill them.

"You need not help me," she said, glancing at him.

"It is no burden for me to help you," was Faramir's reply.

And so she did not object to him helping her; they continued to fill the water skins in silence, until they accidentally reached for the same one; Faramir looked into the Elven-woman's sorrowful green eyes and felt pity for her.

"Tell me what is troubling you," he said, still holding her gaze.

She looked down, and to Faramir it seemed as though she was having an inward debate: to tell or not to tell.

He never broke his gaze with the woman, and he didn't even take the time to think of what he was doing; he probably should have just left her be, but he could not.

0o0—0o0

The brunette Elven-man watched them with fury;

"_What is she doing talking with that Gondorian swine?" _he thought, as he watched the two of them. Blinded by his anger he was about to give the Captain of the Ithilien Rangers a fistful-literally, but someone put a hand on his shoulder.

"Now is not the time to let your anger get in the way," said his fellow elf.

"Thank you Faelivrin, but I think that she means to tear my heart out when she does this-for she knows how I hate those swine of the west!"

"Yes; then do not let her get to you, for she is merely playing on your anger-you know better than I how she does such things, trust me, it is all out of spite but she will soon adjust," assured the elf.

The elf's jaw was still clenched due to his anger, but he nodded in agreement to Faelivrin nonetheless.

0o0-0o0

She stared at him with uncertainty; "Why would you even care? Are we not enemies?"

"Very well; but if you are my enemy then I only ask that you will consider me as an enemy with a conscience."

She looked behind her uneasily, as though she thought that someone was watching her, and then she turned back to Faramir.

"I am to be married you know."

"I did not know that," Faramir answered honestly.

"To an Elven-man of this camp; it is not my wish, but what say do I have in the matter?" she laughed bitterly.

"I am sorry-I do not wish you unhappiness," said Faramir, who then was reminded of a very similar situation back in Minas Tirith.

"Do not be sorry for me; some would say that I deserved this-perhaps I do, for many elves say that I not born, but that I am made from the very fires of mount doom."

Faramir didn't know what to say to that; "What is your name?" he finally asked.

"Tatiana," she replied.

000

The next morning Boromir and Denethor were having their usual break of fast-but that was about the only thing that was usual: Boromir did not even get four hours sleep that night; Eowyn had run away and he did not know where to. Of course there was her faithful maid, Norah who possibly knew where the lady was, but was withholding important information from him.

Earlier that morning, Denethor had been informed by an eavesdropping servant who had told him everything that he could remember about Boromir and Norah's conversation.

Denethor, no doubt was glad to have learned of the information; but due to the fact that he tried to maintain the image of a just man, he had punished the servant to work as a scullery servant in the kitchen for two months. He still had yet to tell Boromir of Faramir's so-called desertion.

"Son," he began. "I know that it must be hard for you to come to terms with the fact that Eowyn has run away, but if you are to find her then we must send soldiers after her immediately; unless, of course, you want a band of orcs to reach her first."

"How did you know of Eowyn's escape father?"

"I have my ways of knowing son, now what do you say that we send some soldiers after her today? And some Rangers-we'll send the best and we will bring her back, be it by force or by her own free will, she will be within these walls before a month has passed."

"If we are to send soldiers after her, then I will go with them."

"No, no, you need not go; will you leave your father to be alone?"

"You know very well that you are not alone my lord," Boromir said. "I will not feel right if I do not go after her myself."

Denethor sighed, "Then indeed you will go-but remember this before you jump into a dangerous situation: you have an ageing, weak-hearted father waiting within the stone walls of the city that you call 'home' should anything happen to you…my first-born, then I shall cease to care for what should happen to me in the days to come; you, my son, kept me from just that when I lost the most precious jewel of my life-I see her in you, her courage, her forgiveness, her eyes…" Denethor stopped for he began to choke back tears.

"Father, nothing will happen to me; I promise," Boromir said; he could see a lot of his mother in Faramir also, and he knew that Denethor could too, but he did not speak his thoughts.

000

Before Boromir and Denethor had awakened from what little sleep they had gotten that night, Faramir had just finished his brief but deep conversation with Tatiana, and the elves were now preparing to set out for Mordor; suddenly, a brunette Elven-man who was carrying some rope walked up to Faramir.

"I hope that you will enjoy yourself as we journey to Mordor-no, I think that you will enjoy yourself more once we have passed the black gate; do you not think so, _Gondorian_?" he spat.

Faramir could hear the bitterness in his voice, and the way that the elf looked at him was a look of sheer hate and anger.

The elf seemed to take great pleasure in binding Faramir's wrists; for he bound the rope so tight that Faramir could literally feel it cutting through his skin. The elf knew this, for he could see that Faramir's wrists were beginning to bleed; he would not have been able to tell otherwise, for Faramir could tolerate pain well.

The elf led him by the remaining rope to where most of the elves and Haradrim had assembled; Faramir knew that they were soon going to set off for the land of shadow.

The elf now stood quite poised, but he did not let go of the rope. A part of Faramir wanted to ask the elf to kindly loosen the ropes, but he knew that that would just make things worse for himself, for he clearly saw on the elf's face that he enjoyed every moment of binding him. Faramir did not know the elf, but the way that the elf looked at him made him feel as though he _should_ have known him.

Finally Sherah and Selwyn emerged, and leading Selwyn's horse was Galen, the young half-Elven, he also noticed Tatiana, but she was a little further ahead, and last but not least, he spotted Morwen, who was standing beside her brother. She almost instantly looked in his direction, neither averted their gaze.

The brunette elf, who was determined to make Faramir's journey to Mordor a living hell, suddenly jerked the rope, causing Faramir to let out a stifled groan of pain.

The elf laughed spitefully, "Be hush you swine," he sneered.

Morwen, who seemed to hear what was said, so desperately wanted to slap the elf that she knew as Jaylyn, but she would face sheer consequences from her brother—sheer consequences indeed.

000

As soon as the storm had ceased, the company of three had set out once again; for the thought of still being so close to Gondor made both Arial and Eowyn feel uneasy, for they fear that they might stand a better chance of getting caught.

They had journeyed through the night without rest; it was coming into the late afternoon when they finally rested again. Since they all felt some sense of tiredness, it had been agreed that they would stop and take a much needed rest once they reached Sarn Gebir, and so they were relieved once they finally reached their point of rest.

It also meant that freedom was closer once they reached Sarn Gebir, for they could now see the finishing line.

Strider's plan for them to safely reach Mirkwood was for them to mainly travel under the cover of darkness (night) and once they reached the Wold, they would rest again before heading for the field of Celebrant and then on to Mirkwood.

It seemed like a very good plan to Eowyn and Arial, for they did not oppose it. They just hoped that they would reach Mirkwood before the Gondorian soldiers reached them…


	18. Denethor's meeting

While Boromir was preparing to set out with his men, Denethor had had a secret meeting with some of the top Gondorian soldiers; Gelidir was, by Denethor's request, also present.

"What would you have us do my lord?" asked the blond Gondorian soldier whose name was Marcus.

"I called you all here for one reason and one reason only-I want you to find my son and bring him back here so that justice may be done upon him."

The room was silent for they all had some idea of what kind of justice Denethor meant, but yet there was a little doubt in all of them, for they were not sure if he would actually have his youngest child executed; therefore they were not sure so they decided to hold their tongues—all except for Laddyn, who, at times could not hold his tongue and would say things that should not be said at that moment; of course he always had the best of intentions.

"Do you intend to execute him my lord?" he asked.

"I do not need to answer to you on how I will execute my judgment!" Denethor said, raising his voice at the raven-haired soldier.

"Of course you do not my lord, but surely you would not have your own flesh and blood executed-surely you could not do that," Laddyn said.

Gelidir glared at the man who he thought was just trying to push the Stewards buttons.

"I think that you have said more than you needed to Laddyn; I am sure that it would be better for all of us if you were silent."

Denethor was grateful for the sharp intervention of Gelidir, for he did not know how to reply to Laddyn, because in truth he still had a very strong debate going on in his mind-to serve out justice on his son as he would do with all deserters, or to spare him and risk his integrity and respect on grounds that he was 'bias' and 'only saved Faramir because he was his son'.

He could not have been happier to have an adviser than he was at that time. And then he suddenly jerked out of his thoughts when he clearly saw that the soldiers were waiting for him to continue speaking.

"And where was I Gelidir?" Denethor asked.

Gelidir, who was sitting to the right of the Steward, answered. "You were saying how you want to bring lord Faramir back so that justice may be done upon him."

"Ah, that's right; my thanks Gelidir, you are in fact a great help to me in my old age."

"My lord, you know that you do not act nearly half your age," replied Gelidir, who could no longer stifle his smile.

Denethor found that Gelidir was a joy to have around, and although he sometimes felt guilty that he was preventing Gelidir from being with his family in Lossarnach, most of the time that never crossed his mind.

"Yes, and as I was about to say; lord Boromir must not know of this-I will tell him when the time is right; but the time is not right, you must not give any clue to him why you are leaving."

"Then what are we to say my lord? That we are scouting?" Laddyn asked, avoiding the icy stare from Gelidir.

"Yes, there should be enough of you to make that seem believable. But if he does not ask, then do not explain to him."

Suddenly Denethor could hear a soldier and someone else at the door:

"It is important that I speak with lord Denethor immediately!" said a clearly agitated male voice.

"I am sorry lord Eomer, he is having a private meeting and he was adamant that he should not be disturbed by anything-or anyone," the guard replied calmly.

"He will speak to me," Eomer replied, clearly determined to enter and speak with the Steward.

"You may let lord Eomer in!" said a voice from within, which was clearly Denethor's.

The guard turned a light shade of red, due to the fact that he thought he was acting out the Stewards orders by turning Eomer away.

"Please forgive me of my incompetence my lord, I only thought that I was acting in lord Denethor's best interest," he said stepping aside and getting ready to open one of the double doors.

"It is alright, I do understand that you was acting in lord Denethor's best interest; I also apologize if I spoke to you unkindly," apologized Eomer.

"None taken my lord," the guard replied, opening the door for Eomer.

When he walked in, it seemed as though he had indeed interrupted a meeting, but he ignored that for there was something much more important on his mind.

"And what is it that you wanted to speak to me about lord Eomer?" Denethor asked, and just by looking into the man's eyes he could see that it had to do with Eowyn.

"My lord, it is about my sister; lady Eowyn," said Eomer after he had formerly bowed to the Steward of Gondor.

"I knew it; I could see it in your eyes," Denethor said, in a way that some would call cold.

Eomer did not have the time to feel intimidated, for it was about his sister, and insuring that she would escape to Mirkwood without being caught.

"Yes my lord and I also heard that you are sending lord Boromir and some soldiers after her."

"Word surely does spread fast within these walls," Denethor said."

"Well lord Boromir told me, and I ask nothing except that you allowed me to accompany them in their search for my sister."

Denethor seemed thoughtful for a moment, and then he finally answered. "I see no harm in you accompanying the soldiers of Gondor."

"Thank you my lord," said Eomer, turning to leave.

"Oh, just one thing lord Eomer, where do you think that she may be?" Denethor asked suddenly.

"In truth my lord, I do not know; but I will be glad to assist her safe return."

"Oh, well we seem to think that she may have escaped along with our servant Arial to the Elven-land of Mirkwood; you see when Arial came to me and asked for his freedom, he believed that his brother was in great danger, and although he did not say it then-he has told me that his only brother lived in Mirkwood, and the night when it is believed that they both escaped, two figures on horseback were seen riding across the Pelennor-it only makes sense that it was them. Do you not think so?"

To Eomer it seemed as though Denethor was trying to trap him and make him slip words, therefore revealing that he aided Eowyn and possibly Arial in their desperate escape.

Instead, Eomer acted as composed as he possibly could.

"I do not know my lord, but we shall find that out soon enough; I am sure that is one thing that we can agree on, am I not right?"

"Of course you are right, for indeed we shall see…we shall see," Denethor looked at Eomer as though he could see right through him, now _that_ intimidated Eomer.

"Well that is all my lord, I shall leave and prepare for the journey," and with a slight bow of the head, Eomer left.

000

That day Theodred had barely eaten, slept, or been socially involved with anyone; he had been summoned back to Rohan for his father had become deathly ill, but as Theodred always said:

"That leech Wormtongue is to blame-yet father cannot see it."

So yes, it was a very big possibility that Wormtongue was to blame for King Théoden's worsening condition.

But that was only a fraction of what was on Theodred's mind, it was his cousin Eowyn; he wished that he would have been able to go all the way to Mirkwood with her, and he kept on worrying about her getting caught; finally, he made a decision: he would go after her and when he found her he would ensure her safety for as long as he possibly could.

000

The Shadow elves and the Haradrim had now journeyed for a long while and so Sherah and Selwyn had both agreed to stop and take rest at Emyn Arnen.

Jaylyn, the rough elf who had dragged Faramir for their entire journey so far, roughly shoved him to the ground.

He shoved Faramir down with all the force that he could muster, and since Faramir had no way of breaking his fall, it caused his nose to start bleeding pretty badly.

He seemed to enjoy this and he laughed cruelly. "You Gondorians are weaklings," he replied, kicking Faramir in his side and walking off to join some of the other elves as they set up a smaller temporary camp, for they would need to journey under the cover of darkness now that they were soon to pass through more occupied territory; but if all went well for them, they would be able to follow the Harad road and enter into Mordor without encountering any Gondorian resistance.

As Faramir struggled to try to get to his feet, he felt a hand on his shoulder; looking up, he found himself staring into those beautiful, yet deep eyes of Tatiana.

"He is a wild beast and you need not heed what he tells you," she said, treating his bleeding nose with a wet cloth.

"I do not heed what he tells me although he seems as though he knows me," Faramir admitted.

"He does not; but he knows me and I know him much better than I would have liked to-he is the elf that I am to marry," she said.

Faramir could see the sadness in her eyes, "Does he treat you ill, Tatiana?"

"It is not more than what I deserve," Tatiana said.

"If you do not mind me asking; what is it that you have done that is to you, unforgivable?"

Tatiana lost his gaze for a moment or two; "Many things," she replied.

"I do not think you wicked," Faramir said; the words had just somehow slipped out of his mouth.

"If you knew what I had done, you would think differently."


	19. Theodred's outburst of anger

_**A/N: **I hope that ya'll enjoy this chappy; and I wanted to thank **Lothiriel** for the kind reviews! and so here is chappy nineteen:)_

**_000_**

Theodred knew that he had something important to do before he left, so a few minutes later he made his way to the main hall where he knew that he would find his father, King Théoden-and Grima.

The guards did not deny the heir to the throne of Rohan admittance, and so as he walked into the main hall, he bowed in reverence, although he doubted that Théoden took much notice, considering that fact that he was rather ill.

But Wormtongue, who thought that he had earned the right to speak for Théoden, stood and began to speak to Theodred.

"And what is your reason for disturbing your ill father; I thought I had made it quite clear to the guards that lord Théoden was not to be disturbed-by anyone," said Wormtongue in his usual sneaky voice.

"I do not need to answer to you _Wormtongue_; leave and me a moment alone with my father," and then he added, out of his anger for the foul man; "you disgust me."

Grima looked infuriated; "You see, your highness how he treats me, when I want nothing but the best for you; I think that he intends to keep you ill."

"I have had it with you Wormtongue!" Theodred yelled, losing his composure, and almost forgetting why he had com in the first place; he shoved Grima against the wall, and held his right arm firmly at the foul man's neck.

"Let him go Theodred; leave him alone!" said the wheezing King.

"Can you not see him for who he really is father? He is a vagabond! He is the scum of the earth!"

"Do not speak of him in such a way; your behavior disgusts me, do you want to keep me ill!" and he had to stop because he was short of breath.

Theodred; still heaving from anger, roughly let go of Grima and sent the man holding his neck and over-dramatically gasping for breath.

"Now be gone! You have caused uproar in your short time of being here; be gone, I am too angered to look upon your face right now," said the King in a dry, cackled voice.

"Do not speak so much wise one for your voice is weak; but you have spoken justly, said the Wormy Wormtongue.

"You need not worry about me leaving father," said Theodred, not sounding phased by what Théoden had just said, though, in fact, he felt the opposite. "That is why I came, my lord: to bid you goodbye; I am leaving without delay-I am returning to Gondor."

And before either one of the twosome could speak, Theodred's fiery son had angrily left the large hall.

000

"I do not think so," Faramir replied, forgetting his pain and boring into the windows of her soul.

Tatiana did not hold his gaze; "Do not speak like that; my chance of redemption is over; in some ways I wish that I was no longer amongst the living."

"Why do you wish such a terrible thing?" Faramir asked.

"I have my reasons and they are just," she said.

As Faramir stared into the beautiful Elven-woman's eyes, he felt compassion on her and wished her happiness-and in some sense, he felt as though he was drawn to her; in some way intrigued by her strong will and sorrow.

"I have broken many hearts," Tatiana said; she seemed as though she was speaking her thoughts aloud.

"And how is that?" Faramir asked.

"I was not like my father who hated you men of the west-in fact; I fell in love with one."

For some strange reason, Faramir felt the tiniest twinge of something like jealousy; he did not know why, but he tried to push it aside as he continued to listen to her story.

"And so my father pledged himself to the Shadow Elves, and he forced me to do the same; I am have been one outwardly, but I was not one in my heart and my love knew this-but for the sake of his life and mine, I went along with it the best way that I could. Until one day, my father and a few other elves had captured two children, they were brother and sister I believe, and they seemed as though they were twins-about eight years in age; but my father wanted to kill them and dangle their bodies on trees as symbols of what would be done to all who opposed Sauron-''

Faramir swallowed hard, he could imagine the terrified looks of the children, and the heartless face of the elves; he hoped that he was wrong about the way that the story was going.

"I could not let that happen," Tatiana continued in a hushed voice so that no one else around the camp would hear. "But there was very little that I could do; I begged and pleaded, but father would not hear it; and though Selwyn's father was the leader of the Shadow elves, we had split up into groups and so at the time my father made all of the decisions concerning our camp; and it was soon decided that their painful execution was to take place the next day; so that night, I snuck into my fathers tent and stabbed him to death-yes, we had a struggle and so I was not left unmarked, but I was able to save those children's lives, and ran with them a while and showed them a safe place to hide where none would find them-but I could not go all the way with them for I was soon caught."

Faramir could not believe it: Tatiana had killed her father! But yet he could understand her desperate reason. "You are not wicked for wanted to save those children's lives," he said.

"I was caught with my fathers stained blood on my clothes-and from that day forward I was deemed 'wicked'."

0o-oo-o0

"She means to drive me insane!" said the fuming elf. "She must know how this angers me!"

"Please do not act on your anger, Jaylyn," pleaded Faelivrin; "She soon be bound to you in a way that no man or elf can set asunder."

"I cannot wait for that day, for she will be under my rule whether she likes it or not."

000

Before leaving, Boromir had said his goodbyes to Denethor; he could see it in his fathers eyes that it broke his heart to see his firstborn leaving on a dangerous ordeal, but Boromir would not hear Denethor's last plea for him to stay.

Now, back to the present, Boromir and Eomer were galloping with the other soldiers across the Pelennor; Boromir and Eomer were, of course, riding in front.

The plan was to reach Anorien by that night, stopping only for a brief rest before riding to east Emnet; the only place where Eowyn intended to run to was most likely Mirkwood, for that was where all of the evidence pointed, and even though Eomer tried to suggest other places where she might be, it was of no use: Mirkwood was their destination, and it they would not be deterred.

000

That night, as Faramir rested in a small tent that had been provided to him, he longed for that city which he had called 'home' all of his life; he was able to see Minas Tirith in the distance when he stood outside; and somehow, in a hopeless situation, it gave him hope.

His heart almost jumped when he turned and saw that the tent flap was opening; he held his breath hoping that it wasn't a Haradrim, for he could not even bear to look at one at the moment.

But he would have to bear it.

For in walked Sherah, with a sly look on his face, and in evil gleam in his black eyes.

"Get away from me," Faramir somewhat ordered, although he had the feeling that it wouldn't do any good.

"You see, I agreed to Selwyn that I would not mess with his 'elves' but a non Elven captive is a different story," he said, walking up to the still bound Captain of Gondor.

"Gondorians like you would sell for a large sum in Harad or Mordor," stated the Haradrim.

Faramir had completely backed up against the tent, and now there was no where for him to go.

"I know that you are not half-Elven, which gives me the right to do with you as I please."

"Get away from me _Haradrim_," Faramir spat; "You do not own me, and I never will obey you; leave now."

"Your words are lifeless when it comes to threats; you can only speak but that is all; I will now find out once and for all whether of not you are an elf."

But when he approached Faramir, and bent down to check, Faramir kneed him hard in the chin, causing Sherah to draw back, but only for a moment; he grinned evilly, and Faramir could see the blood in his mouth.

"You will not get away with this, you swine," said the Haradrim, sounding calmer than Faramir had expected.

But Faramir was not about to sit around to find out what the Haradrim was going to do; he sprung to his feet and used his hands, even though they were bound, to knock the Haradrim in the chin once more.

Sherah was now furious; taking Faramir off-guard, he grabbed the Ranger's hair, and revealed what he had thought all that time: he was no elf!

000

As soon as the sky had darkened, Eowyn, Arial, and Strider had set out once more; Strider knew Rohan well, it seemed as though he knew every nook and cranny, and he seemed to move about swiftly and tirelessly; if one had seen him from afar, then he most likely would have been thought an elf!

This amazed both Arial and Eowyn; she was, in fact, becoming more and more intrigued by Strider as every day passed; they would spend a lot of their time talking together, while Arial sat alone thinking of his brother, and hoping that it was not too late.

After what seemed like they had been journeying for ages, they began to see the first signs of dawn; and better yet: they had reached the Wold, bringing them one step closer to the Elven land of Morkwood.


	20. Wounded Captain

_**A/N: **Well, hopefully you guys will enjoy the earlier update! I apologize that its a bit shorter than usual, but all in all, I hope that you guys enjoyed it; and now to the reviews..._

_**To Cindy: **Thanks for the pointers Cindy! One can never have enough advice; actually English is my native tongue, but it isn't my strongest subject, and the bad grammar is also due to the fact that sometimes I type fasterthan I should, therefore I create more errors, but thanks for the help. :D_

_**To Lothiriel: **I'm glad that you liked Laddyn! And I'm glad that you like the quick updates-and the story! Thanks for the review:-)_

**Chapter Twenty: Wounded Captain**

"Ah, indeed you are no elf," Sherah sneered, letting go of Faramir.

Faramir took this as an opportunity to back away from the Haradrim.

"I am not afraid of you, _Haradrim_," he said, trying to maintain his dignity.

"Oh, but you will; soon you will be begging for mercy-at my feet!" he said, letting out an evil laugh.

Just then, Selwyn entered the tent. "What are you doing in here Sherah? We have important matters to discuss!" he said in an agitated tone, for he had a feeling that he knew why Sherah had gone into Faramir's tent.

"I believe that you are trying to hide something from me, Selwyn," said Sherah with a sly grin.

"Come, we do not have the time to engage in frivolous conversations like this; let us return to my tent and finish our discussion," urged Selwyn.

And so, with one last glance at the man whom he had now discovered was no elf, Sherah departed with Selwyn.

When they had left, Faramir breathed a sigh of relief; but for how long? It would only be a matter of time until Sherah returned.

And then, someone suddenly drifted back into his thoughts: Tatiana; she had been in his thoughts for almost the whole day, and he did not know why, but he could not wait to see her again.

0o-0o-0o

As Galen looked and saw Minas Tirith in the distance, he began to grieve inwardly; suddenly, he heard a soft familiar voice.

"I know that you long to return to that city, and I am certain that you will someday," said Morwen reassuringly.

"I am not so certain Morwen, I fear that this is how I will be forced to live my life until…until the end."

"That will not happen; you must have faith, for there is always hope."

"I am glad that I have you to talk to Morwen, I do not know what I would do if you were not here with me—although, in some sense I do wish that."

Despite their grim situation, Morwen was able to smile; "You will get your chance to escape, that I promise."

"I will not leave without you Morwen, even if it is my one and only chance of escaping," said Galen, staring out into the distance at the white city of Gondor.

"I would never forgive myself if you were to put your life at risk for my sake," Morwen said.

"And I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't; you are not one of them, for it was not your wish to be apart of this; you were forced to be apart of it-and so am I."

Morwen and Galen saw eye to eye on many issues, for they had bonded over time, and although they did not admit it to anyone-or even each other: they were beginning to fall in love with each other, and they both knew that Selwyn would not be pleased.

"Morwen," said Galen breaking the silence, "I am glad that I have come to know you, and if this is the only way that our paths could have met then I am not so grieved about what has happened to me," he said softly.

"And I know that it may sound selfish, I cannot help being glad that you are with me, for now I do not know what would have happened if I had not met you."

000

Earlier that day as Boromir and his men had galloped beyond sight across the Pelennor, Marcus and his men were just about ready to leave.

Marcus was an ambitious soldier who had already risen to high ranks in the Gondorian army by the time that he was twenty and five.

Now twenty and seven, his ambition and love for his country had only increased; he was a man of about six feet tall, and he had one of the best pairs of blue eye that one could ever see; Denethor had entrusted him to lead the mission, for he knew that he was trustworthy, because if nobody else in Middle-earth could keep their word-Marcus could.

As they rode on the first level of the city, some people stood outside of their houses and watched them go by; for even though they did not know why or where they were going, they still enjoyed the sight of seeing gallant soldiers of Gondor pass by their houses.

As they approached the great gates of Minas Tirith, the guards opened them and they rode out across the Pelennor.

And then, Laddyn could no longer hold his tongue.

"What are we to do if we find Captain Faramir? For we all know that there is a possibility that lord Denethor will have him executed."

"It is not our place to interfere with lord Denethor's orders, Laddyn," said Marcus. "We will find Captain Faramir and bring him back, just as our Steward has commanded us."

"Do you not wish that there was something that we could do?" Laddyn asked.

"That is not my place," said Marcus, wishing that Gelidir was present to shut Laddyn up, for he knew that it was going to be a long journey.

000

Earlier that night, as Eowyn, Strider, and Arial were journeying to the Wold under the cover of darkness; Boromir, Eomer, and the soldiers of Gondor had set out again in pursuit of the runaway lady of Rohan.

As Eomer rode in front with Boromir, he began to get a little worried: what if Eowyn was still close by? What would he do then?

He would have to think of a way to slow them down—and he would have to think fast; suddenly, as though his prayer had been answered, an idea struck him.

"Boromir, I think that we will stand a better chance of finding Eowyn if we go on foot," he said; he seemed to talk quite comfortably, considering how fast they were riding.

"We'll lose more time, for if the evidence is correct, then she and Arial were riding horses when they escaped."

"I see your point but she knows horses very well, for she has grown up with them, and I fear that she will be able to know that we are coming when we're miles away."

Boromir sighed, but how could he protest? For was Eomer not her brother? Did he not know her better than Boromir?

Boromir stopped his horse and put up his left hand as a signal for the soldiers to stop, which they did in unison.

"We will continue on foot!" Boromir ordered.

There were a few murmurs amongst the soldiers, but they did what their Captain had commanded. Eomer was no doubt very pleased with the fact that his plan had worked; as a result their pace would be much slower.

And so they left their horses by the river, hoping to return soon.

O0o-O0o

They had journeyed without rest for five hours, but being soldiers they were all used to the harsh conditions.

Suddenly, as they journey in an area that was plentiful in trees, Boromir stopped.

"We are not alone," he said in a whisper.

The soldiers noiselessly drew their weapons, and soon after, they could hear the sound of arguing—Orcs.

"You eat everything! I would have at least liked a bite of him, but no, you had to eat him all; as if you aren't fat enough!" said a squeaky orc.

"I hadn't eaten anything in days Snogga! If you're scrawny it's your fault not mine!"

"Knock it off back there!" said a grouchy voice.

Suddenly, they all stopped walking.

"Am I the only one who smells man flesh?" Snogga asked.

"No! I'm sure that they are over there!" barked the grouchy orc.

They could all hear the Orc's drawing their weapons; and then, taking them by surprise Boromir shouted "Now!"

And they sprung up from their hiding place and began to fight the Orc's. Arrows whizzed through the air, swords were drawn, and the cries of wounded men and dying Orc's rang through the night. But finally, after fighting relentlessly, the men prevailed. But they had to pay a price.

As Eomer helped tend to the wounded, he heard a soldier calling his name urgently; so Eomer, asking another soldier to take his place, ran to where the soldier was. The soldier did not have to explain why he had called him, for Eomer could see clearly: Someone was lying on the ground, and to Eomer he seemed badly wounded. He recognized him instantly—_he_ was Boromir.

Eomer frantically checked Boromir's pulse, it was weak but yet it was stronger than Eomer had anticipated.

But as Eomer could clearly see, he was losing blood fast, for it had already stained much of the grass that surrounded him.

"Bring me some cloth and warm water!" Eomer ordered.

The soldier, willing to do anything that he could for his wounded Captain, hurried off to get the supplies; Eomer only had to wait for a short while until he returned.

"This will not hold for long," said Eomer to the soldier as he cleaned Boromir's wounds. "We must call off the search for lady Eowyn for the moment, and we must return to Minas Tirith immediately."

**COMING UP: Will Boromir love long enough to return to Minas Tirith?**

**And Faramir confronts his feelings for Tatiana. **


	21. Aranel

_**A/N: **Heres chappy twenty-one! I hope that you guys enjoy it. :)_

_**Reviews**_

_**To Lothiriel: **I'm glad that you liked Morwen and Galen's part; and I enjoyed writing about the Orc's! Thanks for reviewing:-D_

_**To Cindy: **Thanks for the pointer and the review!_

_And now to the story...

* * *

Early in the morning Faramir was awakened from his sleep by the sound of someone entering his tent; he hoped that it wasn't Sherah or Selwyn, but in some sense he was happier that it was Selwyn instead of the man from Harad. _

"Does he know that you are not half-Elven?" Selwyn asked, cutting to the chase.

"I see no reason why I should answer to you," Faramir said.

"But you will learn to answer to me-and you will learn the hard way," said Selwyn, placing a well aimed blow near Faramir's ribs.

The Ranger groaned in pain, for his wounds had not completely healed.

Selwyn smirked arrogantly; "You will learn to submit to me, for if you do not then I could hand you over to Sherah so that he could sell you to Mordor," now tell me, said Selwyn, "Does he know that you are not half Elven?"

"Yes," Faramir replied.

Selwyn could hear the anger in his voice, but he figured that as long as he threatened to hand over to Sherah then Faramir would be obedient to him.

"That is much better," said Selwyn. "I am guessing that you are hungry."

A part of Faramir wanted to act proud and refuse the food, but he just couldn't seem to go through with it, so instead, he managed a small nod.

Selwyn turned around and called to one of the elves:

"Jaylyn, bring some bread and water for the prisoner."

Jaylyn soon entered the tent, carrying the bread and water that Selwyn had asked for.

"Cut off the rope so that he can eat," Selwyn ordered after Jaylyn had set the bread and water down.

The elf took a knife that was attached to his belt, and with an evil gleam in his eye, cut the ropes off of Faramir—but not without intentionally cutting Faramir's wrists also.

The cuts were not very deep, so they would not cause unstoppable bleeding, but he had cut them deep enough to cause the Stewards son terrible pain.

000

Eomer and the soldiers of Gondor had ridden tirelessly and without rest so that Boromir, Captain of Gondor would make it to Minas Tirith before it was too late. Eomer had felt guilty for what had happened to Boromir, for he had never intended for him to get wounded, and he hoped that Boromir would be alright—and he also hoped that Eowyn was alright, for he had no way of knowing that for certain.

Although Boromir's pulse seemed to be weakening by the hour, it appeared that he would be able to hold on long enough for them to reach Minas Tirith so that he could get the medical help that he needed.

As they began to see glimpses of the sun, they also saw something else that gave them undying hope: Minas Tirith.

Eomer sighed with relief for now he knew that they would make it after all.

(o) (o) (o)

While Eomer and the soldiers of Gondor were making their way across the Pelennor, Norah was in the houses of healing, for a servant had taken sick and she had volunteered to pick up the herbs for her.

As she walked through the gardens, she began to think of lady Eowyn and Boromir; in some sense she hoped that Boromir would find Eowyn, but another part of her wished that Eowyn would be bale to escape to Mirkwood never to be found by her husband.

She let out a heavy sigh: she pitied Boromir, for just like Eowyn, he did not choose to marry her but he was forced to; to Norah, the only difference between the two of them was that he was willing to give their marriage a try so that they would not have to live in misery till the end of their days. But Eowyn did not even want to try—she chose to run away to a foreign land.

It had taken her a little while to find the correct herbs, for some of them were unfamiliar to her, but as soon as she was about to leave she heard a commotion: it was the sounds of men and healers all talking at the same time. Norah put down the basket that she was carrying and rushed to the entrance; she could see Gondorian soldiers and they seemed to be carrying someone, but the healers were unknowingly blocking her view. Despite the commotion, Norah could make out some of the conversation, and when she truly understood who was wounded she wanted to faint.

"He was wounded by an Orc blade and arrow—we rode through the night so that he could make it here before it was too late," said Eomer as he ran an anxious hand through his hair.

"We cannot lose our Captain," stressed one soldier.

"I will break the news to lord Denethor," said another, who sounded just as grieved as the others.

Norah now knew that Boromir had been wounded, and she made her way through the frantic healers and saw him; he was obviously unconscious, and he was wounded badly. Norah knew that there had to be something that she could do-she was determined to save his life.

000

Marcus and his men stopped to rest; they had been journeying without cease.

Marcus had decided that they would set their course for Osgiliath first, for if Faramir had deserted his men then it was believed that he would be trying to make his way out of Gondor.

Although the other soldiers were exhausted, Marcus did not seem to need any rest; instead he sat by a small stream and just enjoyed his own company; he began to wonder why Faramir had deserted his men; for he had known Faramir to be an honorable man who would rather dire than even consider desertion, but Marcus knew that since Gelmir was the only one who supposedly witnessed the desertion, then they would just have to take his word for it.

And if Gelmir was right, then Marcus would have no choice but to agree to have justice be served upon Faramir, for he would be angered if Faramir did not have to pay the price for desertion just because he was the Stewards son; but the price was a heavy price to pay: Death.

He was jerked out of his thoughts when he heard someone approaching; when he looked up he was relieved to see that it wasn't Laddyn. Instead it was his best friend, Gybren.

"I did not mean to interrupt your quiet time," said Gybren; "but when you left you seemed quite disturbed about something."

"Do you think that it is wise of the Steward to take Gelmir at his word?" Marcus asked his blond companion.

"I could never trust that snake; but perhaps he is telling the truth this time, for I do not know how he could make up something like that."

"It is easy for men like Gelmir to make up all sorts of things."

"But if he was lying do you not think that lord Faramir would be in Minas Tirith at this very moment?"

"Perhaps you are right—what you are saying does make sense," said Marcus.

000

Faramir grimaced as Jaylyn intentionally cut his wrists; he was not sure if Selwyn had seen what Jaylyn had done, but by the look on the raven-haired elf's face, he knew that he had seen it but had chosen to do nothing.

"That should be enough to nourish you until we see fit to feed you again," said Selwyn as he turned to leave.

Jaylyn wanted to kill the Gondorian; he had done it before for a woman—the same woman, Tatiana; she had loved a Gondorian and he had killed him in a very slow, brutal way.

He had almost paid for it with his life, because that night after he had committed the murder, Tatiana came into his tent and almost stabbed him to death, but he was able to fight her off despite the fact that he was badly wounded. It was he who had first said that she was not born but made from the fire of Mount Doom, and that terminology had spread around the camp.

Tatiana had fallen in love with a Gondorian before, and he was not going to let it happen again; he saw the way that Faramir looked into her eyes, it disgusted him and he was going to make Faramir wish that he had never been born.

"Enjoy your scraps _swine_," he sneered at Faramir; but before he could respond to the elf's remark, Jaylyn had left the tent.

000

When Eowyn awakened from her sleep, she realized that Strider was nowhere to be seen; thinking quickly, she roused Arial.

"What is it my lady?" asked the elf; he didn't sound too bothered, considering the fact that she had just awakened him from his deep sleep.

"Where is Strider?" she asked anxiously.

"I do not know," replied the elf, sitting up and taking in his surroundings.

"I am right here," answered a male voice.

Eowyn had come to recognize it; and she became more and more grateful that she had met him; for thanks to him they were getting closer and closer to Mirkwood.

"Where were you?" she asked, getting up and turning to face him.

"I was exploring to make sure that it was safe to travel by day, and by the looks of things, if we set out now then we should reach the field of Celebrant by tonight."

"I am well rested so I would be able to journey that far; but what about you Arial?" asked Eowyn.

"I think that I could make it my lady," said Arial.

After they had washed their faces and eaten a small meal, they set off again, and they seemed to travel faster than usual, for they could see the finishing line: Mirkwood.

000

He was surrounded by cruel Orc's who were ready to lunge at him at moment; but he held his ground.

He was Aranel, a soldier of Mirkwood, and the brother of an Elven-man who lived far away in the realm of Gondor; he drew his sword and looked fearlessly at the Orc's.

They lunged at him in unison, but he was too quick and began to kill them by either slicing off their heads or piercing them with his sword.

But there were too many for a single elf to fight: he knew that his fellow elves were looking for him, but he could not run now-he had to stay and fight, for if he ran then an Orc might attack him from behind.

He began to dispatch more than he had expected, but not without paying a price: he was had cuts and gashes on his arm and torso, but he persevered; but finally, when there were about twenty-two Orc's left, he began to weaken for he had lost a lot of blood; he could hear a familiar voice calling his name and that gave him hope.

But not enough; suddenly, a large Orc took him off guard and sliced his sword across Aranel's stomach.

The elf let out a cry of pain before falling to the ground and losing consciousness.

Just as the Orc's were going to kill him, an arrow whizzed through the air, killing an Orc; this alarmed the others, and for a moment they stood still. And then, that arrow was followed by another, and another. The Orc's were terrified of the enemy that they couldn't see, but their Captain barked at them:

"Hold your ground!" even though he too wanted to run.

After several other Orc's had fallen victim to the mysterious archer, then he emerged.

He moved so quickly that it was impossible for Orc's to stop him: he took the fallen elf's sword and began to slay them, even as they tried to run; he left none alive.

When they were all dead, he rushed over the Aranel's side, and examined his wounds: they were very bad and he had lost a lot of blood, and he was not equipped with any herbs that would help him. He hoped that he would be able to take him to safety before it was too late…

**COMING UP IN FUTURE CHAPTERS: **

**Is it too late for Aranel?**

**And Norah makes a surprising confession to Boromir**


	22. The maiden and the Captain

_**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews guys! I hope that ya'll enjoy this chapter! And now to the reviews..._

**_Reviews:_**

_**To Cindy: **Only 3 of LOTR fics are Boromir fics! The golden Gondorian **certainly **does deserve better! Thanks for the review :D_

_**To Lothiriel: **Hey, mabye she can...Thanks for reviewing :)_

_**To Windstar: **Yes, I will continue; thanks for taking the time to review!_

_**000**_

Boromir had been taken to a room in the houses of healing, and as Norah entered to see him, a healer stopped her.

"You cannot enter, Norah, they are trying to close his wounds."

"Please, you must let me enter," Norah pleaded. "I am very skilled in healing; I know that I could help him, please."

The man seemed to think on it for a moment, and then he snapped back to reality. "Very well, you may enter—but I warn you that it is not a pretty sight."

"Thank you for warning me, but I have had my share of gruesome sights," said Norah, before entering the room.

When she entered, it appeared that the healers were searing his wounds closed; that was a sight that Norah had not often seen.

The room was dark, for they had ordered the servants to shut the shutters on the windows. Norah could see a lot of blood on the bed, she couldn't imagine what would happen if Boromir regained consciousness during the painful procedure.

Finally, when they had completed the searing, one of the healers looked up and saw Norah.

"Who let you in?" the man asked sharply.

"Peter," Norah answered. "I know some things about healing that they do not teach here in Gondor; I know that I could help him."

"The healers talked amongst themselves for a moment, and then a healer spoke. "His situation is worsening; we have been able to seal his wounds but that does not mean that he is better; if you have knowledge of healing that we do not, then we would be glad to have your assistance."

000

As the soldier stood before Denethor and Gelidir, he could barely speak for he was grieved that his Captain had been wounded.

"Speak!" Denethor snapped; for the soldier had been just standing there for about three minutes, and he had not said a word.

"My lord…it is about Captain Boromir," he said, putting his head down.

Denethor swallowed hard, as he tried not to expect the worst. "Continue," he ordered.

"Our journey halted when we came across Orcs: we fought them and left none alive, but many of my fellow soldiers were wounded—including lord Boromir."

Denethor's face turned deathly pale; he could not believe what he was hearing: the very thing that he had feared had come to pass.

"He is not dead my lord, but his condition is very bad: he is currently in the houses of healing, but I-"

Seeing the look on Denethor's face, Gelidir felt that is was his place to stop the soldier from saying anything else that might add to the devastation.

"Thank you for informing lord Denethor of this tragedy; you may leave now."

Denethor made no objection to Gelidir's order.

To Gelidir, Denethor seemed to be just an empty shell sitting in the chair of the Stewards…just an empty shell.

000

"Stay with me Aranel," said the blond elf.

He had been able to bind Aranel's wounds, but he knew that that was not enough, every time his eyes looked to the blood soaked ground, he began to lose hope; it seemed as though help was thousands of leagues away, but he would not give up, he was the Prince of Mirkwood and he would always find a way.

000

Theodred had journeyed as far as East Emnet when he stopped to rest; the journey to Mirkwood was definitely not easy, but he loved his cousin dearly and would do anything for her.

He was determined to find her and help her…even if it resulted in his own death. He wondered how Eomer was doing back in the White City; he hoped that he had been able to either deter or slow down their search for Eowyn and Arial, little did he know that Eowyn was the least of their worries.

000

The healers had left a long time ago, but Norah had stayed and had sat in a chair at the side of Boromir's bed; she had examined his wounds and had used a combination of herbs on the wounds so that he would not feel so much pain when he awakened.

She got up and began to slightly pace the dimly lit room; she hoped that he would wake up, for if he didn't she did not know what she would do.

Yes, that sounded strange coming from a woman who had only met the man a few times, all of which had been brief, but she felt pity for him, and she knew that he was not the man that Eowyn had at first made him out to be; as she dwelt on these thoughts, she failed to see that the Captain of Gondor had awakened.

He could make out a woman standing but the closed windows, but he could not tell who she was, for her back was turned, and the room seemed to be getting darker due to the fact that the last candle had all but burnt out.

"_Could it be?" _he thought to him—if it was who he thought it was, then what a surprise that would be!

"My lady Eowyn? Is it really you?" he asked, in what sounded like a whisper.

The woman turned around to face him. "My lord!" she exclaimed. "You are awake—you are alive!"

She ran over to the side of his bed, and now he could clearly see that he was not looking into the eyes of lady Eowyn, instead he was looking into the eyes of her maiden, Norah.

Now he could slightly feel it: the pain of his wounds. Due to the fact that Norah had used a special concoction, he did not feel as much pain as he would have-but he still felt pain. It was mainly coming from his left shoulder, and his side.

Norah could tell by the look on his face that he was still in some kind of pain; "You were wounded by an Orc-blade and arrow, my lord. I mixed up some herbs and applied them to your wounds so that you would not feel so much pain, but you must rest if you are to get completely better."

There was a momentary silence as they held each others gaze; finally, Norah broke the slightly uncomfortable silence.

"I will leave now my lord, and let you rest," she said, getting ready to head for the door. But Boromir stopped her.

"Norah, don't go."

000

After he had eaten the hard, stale bread and drank the warm water, an elf came and led him out of the tent.

The sun was shining brightly as Faramir stood by a tree; his thoughts began to drift back to the Elven woman, Tatiana. He found himself drawn to the beautiful Elven-woman, not just because of the fact that she was beautiful, but because of the hard life that she had lived so far, and still through it all she was not evil like the majority of the shadow elves.

Is that all that he felt for her? Or did he feel something deeper?

That was what he had continued to ask himself, and as he began to think on that, he knew deep down what the answer was: Yes, he felt something more for the Elven-woman. But how much deeper were his feelings? And what consequences would he face if his true feelings were discovered?

Death.

Oh yes, death was certain; but there was also something else: did she feel the same way?

It was hard for him to tell, for sometimes she would hardly ever look him in the eye. Just then, he spotted her close by, but she was not alone; the cruel elf Jaylyn was with her.

00-00-00

"I know what you are doing, Tatiana; you are trying to drive me mad," said Jaylyn.

"I thought that you had already gone mad," Tatiana said sarcastically.

"You know how much I hate those swine of the West, yet you continue to go near him!"

"I care not what you think, for I do not live to please you," Tatiana said sharply.

"But you will learn to," he snapped.

"I will _never_ please you-I do not fear you and your threats do not intimidate me."

"He does not seem like your type-I thought that you preferred blond-"

Tatiana swiftly slapped him across his face, stopping him from completing his sentence.

Jaylyn was furious now; he smote her across the face with such force that she almost staggered.

This was too much for Faramir; he had not heard the conversation but he had clearly seen what had happened. Gathering all of the strength that he could muster, he ran over to the elf, knocking him to the ground, and began to punch him ferociously.

000

"This cannot be true," said Denethor, who still seemed to be in a state of shock.

Gelidir did not know what to say, for although he had a family in Lossarnach, he had never lost one of his children-as a matter of fact, he had never even come close to losing one of his children.

"I am sure that he will be alright my lord; lord Boromir is a fighter at heart-he will get through this," Gelidir said, trying to reassure the Steward the best way that he could.

Denethor did not know how he would go on if he lost his first-born. Boromir had always been a joy to him…especially when lady Finduilas died.

"I must go and see my son," said Denethor, getting up from the chair of the Stewards.

"Are…are you sure my lord?" Gelidir asked.

"Yes; I must see him now."


	23. I am none other

_**A/N:** I'm sorry if this chappy is shorter than usual guys, but I hope that ya'll still enjoy it._

**_Reviews:_**

_**To windstar: **Yeah, well. Poor Faramir, right! Thanks for reviewing :-)_

**Uncertain Fates**

**_000_**

They held each others gaze for a moment, and then Norah broke the silence,

"My lord, I must leave eventually."

"But what harm would there be in you staying just a little while longer?" Boromir asked; he knew that he could use her company.

Norah sat back down somewhat reluctantly. "How are you feeling my lord?" she asked, trying to get into some kind of conversation.

"It could be worse," Boromir replied; "How long have you been in here?"

"I do not know, my lord; for I did not pay any attention to the time."

There was momentary silence which lasted for about five or more minutes, until Norah broke it, and this time she_ really _was leaving.

"My lord, I think that it is time that I left, for I must notify the healers that you have awakened."

Boromir didn't say anything as she headed for the door; but they soon heard a commotion coming from the hall:

"I want to see my son!" boomed Denethor.

"My lord, I am not sure if he is in the best condition for you to lay your eyes upon hi-"

"I care not what you think; I want to see my son now!" said Denethor, cutting the healer off.

"V…very well my lord," said another healer.

With one last glance at Boromir, Norah left the room, and found herself face to face with Denethor; he looked at her coldly.

"Who gave_ you_ permission to see my son?"

Norah, feeling as though she was only two feet tall, didn't know what to say to the agitated Steward. "My lord, I was only permitted to see lord Boromir because I could help him," she replied calmly.

Denethor turned and entered his Boromir's room without saying another word to Eowyn's maiden.

000

Faramir had let his anger get in the way. He had taken the elf by surprise, so Jaylyn barely got the chance to fight back; he had continuously punched the elf until he now had Jaylyn's blood on his hands.

It didn't take long at all for the elves to pull him off, and when they did, the bleeding Jaylyn threw some punches of his own.

"You rotten Gondorian! Who do you think you are? You will pay for this, you swine!" he spat.

Before Faramir could say a word, two elves roughly grabbed him by the arms and Jaylyn began to punch him in the face; the commotion soon alerted Selwyn and Sherah, but Selwyn insisted the he went alone to see what the noise was about.

By the time he reached where Faramir and the other elves were, Tatiana was screaming at Jaylyn, and trying to stop him from beating Faramir. But as soon as Jaylyn saw Salwyn, he stopped punching Faramir immediately.

By now, Jaylyn's hands were covered in Faramir's blood, and as Selwyn saw the limp Ranger, he couldn't help wondering what had happened.

"What is going on?" he asked sharply.

The two elves that held Faramir, let him go, causing the unconscious Captain of Gondor to fall head-first on the ground.

"What is going on!" Selwyn snapped, for he hated having to ask the same question twice.

"He attacked me for no apparent reason, Selwyn; I do admit that my anger got the better of me, but can you blame me?"

Tatiana now had some kind of idea as to why Faramir attacked Jaylyn.

"_But why would he do that for me?"_ she thought. In the end, she decided not to tell Selwyn the possible reason why Faramir attacked Jaylyn; for fear that it might make matters worse for Faramir.

"Pick him back up," Selwyn ordered the two elves.

They did so in unison.

Selwyn then grabbed Faramir by his hair so the he could get a good look at his face; he, in truth looked _very _bloody, but Selwyn knew that he would live. "It will probably do him some good in the long-term. But do not let me catch you doing anything like that again; for I refuse to bring a permanently damaged man beyond the black gates; understood?"

"Understood," Jaylyn repeated, pleased with the fact that he didn't get into any trouble for his evil deed.

000

Legolas had to somewhat drag Aranel for Aranel and Legolas were almost identical when it came to weight.

He was able to drag Aranel as gently as possible, but soon stopped when he noticed that a lot of blood was beginning to seep through his bandages. The Prince of Mirkwood slumped against a tree in despair: he did not know what to do, and as far as he knew, death was at his friend's door.

Suddenly, he heard soft groaning; he quickly looked over at Aranel, and could now tell that he was waking up.

000

When Denethor entered the dimly lit room, he thought that he was dreaming when he saw was alive and awake.

"My son!" he exclaimed, rushing over to the side of his son's bed; he was going to embrace his son, but Boromir stopped him.

"No father, I don't think that I'm well enough to receive your hugs."

"Of course," said Denethor, "I was worried about you—when I received word of your condition, I thought that you was going to…" his voice trailed off, for he could not imagine losing his first-born—and of his favorite son.

"There is nothing for you to worry about, father," said Boromir, trying to reassure Denethor.

"Why did you not heed my words?" asked Denethor, ignoring what his son had just said. "If you had, then this might not have happened!"

"None can know that for certain father."

"Why are you so relaxed about it? This is your life! What would I do if I lost you?" Denethor asked, and then it seemed as though his anger switched to Eowyn. "If she had not run away, then none of this would have happened; if she would have stayed and lived out her duty, then you would have been wounded by those foul creatures! We will find her and bring her back; but this time she will have no chance of escape."

"No father," said Boromir, "I fear that we are already too late."

000

When Faramir opened his eyes, his head hurt him terribly; but he saw someone peering over him with a wet cloth. It was Tatiana.

"I am glad to see that you are awake," she said sincerely. "You should not have done what you did."

"How could I have just turned a blind eye? Tatiana, I am not a heartless man who will see things like that and just turn away."

She looked down for a moment; "You should not have done that for me. For look at what he has done to you!"

"This I can live with, for I would rather have him unleash his anger at me than you."

"You are a very honorable man," said Tatiana.

"It runs through our blood," said Faramir, referring to his family.

"You have not yet told me your name," Tatiana said suddenly.

"Can you keep it a secret?" Faramir asked, hoping that she would not say a word if he told her.

"Yes," she replied, for she was a very trustworthy elf.

"My name is Faramir," he answered.

Tatiana's mind instantly began to race…was it the 'Faramir, Captain of the Ithilien Rangers'? For she had heard of the son's of the Steward, and the Steward himself; all of the evil Shadow Elves did not like them too much.

"Faramir, Captain of Gondor?" Tatiana asked.

"I am none other."

000

Marcus and his men had reached Osgiliath by now, and had searched the city; but not a trace of Faramir was to be found. But Laddyn unknowingly added to Marcus' frustration.

"I do not think that it is right for us to hunt down Captain Faramir, so that we can bring him back to Minas Tirith where he will be murdered—it just is not right.

"If you do not hold your tongue, then I will personally hand you over to the next orc that I see!" said an agitated Marcus.

"What? Do you not think that they will lord Denethor intends to execute him?"

"Laddyn, be hush," said Gybren.

"You know that I speak the truth, why aren't we trying to stop them from executing lord Faramir? We all know that none can take Gelmir at his word!"

"Hold you tongue!" snapped Marcus, "do not make me rip it out."

000

The elf groaned in pain, as his wounds gave him a painful reminder as to what had happened.

"Do not move," Legolas ordered. "You are badly wounded, but I am sure that help is not far."

Aranel opened his eyes, but could not say anything, due to the terrible pain from his wounds. Legolas examined the cuts and gashes on Aranel's arms; he did not want to make the elf despair, but he was beginning to lose hope, for he was not sure if Aranel could hold on much longer—and by the looks of things, they would have to wait for a while until help came.

000

That night, Eowyn, Strider, and Arial reached the Field of Celebrant; and now their journey was almost over; as Arial lay on the grass, thinking about his brother, Eowyn and Strider sat together, looking into the starry sky.

"I cannot believe that our journey is almost over," Eowyn said.

"Well I am just glad that I was able to help you, my lady," was Strider's reply.

"But there is only one downside about us reaching Mirkwood."

"What is that my lady?"

"I do not know if I will ever see you again," said Eowyn, turning to look at him.

Strider slightly smiled, "I think that I will see you again, Eowyn," he said, turning to look at her.

"Do you promise?" she asked, allowing the words to just slip out of her mouth.

"I promise."


	24. Lost?

_**A/N:** I'm so so sorry for taking so long to update! Um, I don't really have much of an excuse, but thanks to those who have reviewed!_

**_Reviews:_**

_**-The Insane Elvish Vampire Pirate And The Demented Hobbit Ninja: **Yeah, I probaby would have done the same thing too! To bad Faramir didn't think about annoying them. Thanks for the review : )_

_**-Lothiriel: **I'm sorry for not updating sooner, but hopefully you'll be able to find out whether Tatiana can be trusted or not. Thanks for taking the time to review :)_

_**-lalalalalalalala: **I'm glad you like the story; thanks for reviewing :)_

**Uncertain Fates**

Suddenly, Legolas began to hear voices: help had arrived. He couldn't believe it, one moment he was despairing because he thought that help was miles away, and now he could hear his fellow elves and he knew that they were very near.

"Help is coming, Aranel; help is on the way," said Legolas.

"I…its too late for me," Aranel stammered.

"No, it is not too late."

Suddenly, they could hear the elves calling their names:

"Aranel, lord Legolas?" they called almost frantically, as they made their way through the forest.

"We are here!" Legolas answered, emerging from behind a tree. "I am alright, but Aranel is not; he has been wounded by an orc blade."

And so the Elven soldiers of Mirkwood immediately went over to Aranel, and tried their best to tend to his wounds.

"Tell me that we are not too late," Legolas said to himself in a whisper.

000

Tatiana swallowed hard; she couldn't believe that she was face to face with a lord of Gondor.

"You are Faramir, Captain of Gondor?" she asked again out of shock.

"Yes, it is me, but you do understand that you are not to mention this to another soul—not even Galen and Morwen."

"Yes, I understand," said Tatiana. "But I must go now."

And so no more words were exchanged between them as she turned and left the tent.

00

As soon as Jaylyn heard Tatiana say that she was leaving, he immediately hid behind a tree so that she wouldn't know that he had been listening—and of course he had heard everything.

"Faramir, Captain of Gondor," he said bitterly.

As soon as Tatiana was out of sight, the evil elf went to Selwyn's tent; but unfortunately for him, Selwyn was not in a very good mood.

"What is it?" he asked sharply.

"I have some news about the prisoner, who until now has gone without a name."

"It had better be worth my time: make it quick," said the easily agitated elf.

"He is no mere man—he is a lord of Gondor."

Jaylyn now had Selwyn's full attention. "A Captain of Gondor?"

"Yes, he is Faramir, the second son of the Steward!"

"How did you come by this information?" asked Selwyn.

"I heard it from his mouth; I heard him confess to Tatiana—and he made Tatiana agree to tell no one."

Selwyn now leaned back in his chair. "I thank you for telling me this information, for now I believe that we have a _very_ valuable prisoner; do you not think so?"

"Oh yes, I could not agree more."

"Now, what shall we do with the _Captain_ of Gondor?" Selwyn asked, in a very pleased tone, for that news had cleared away the black cloud that had been hanging over him.

"I have quite a few ideas of my own," answered Jaylyn.

000

It angered Denethor to hear his son speak like that, for he was determined to bring Eowyn back to Gondor so that she could fulfill her life's duty.

"Do not speak that way, Boromir!" said Denethor.

"How can I not, father? It is hopeless; she is probably leagues away by now."

"It is not hopeless, for I will see to it that she is brought back within these walls where there will be no chance of escape again—and I'll see to it that that treacherous elf is also found," said Denethor.

To Boromir, it seemed that the more he talked the angrier he became.

"Who does she think she is? You intended to give her a life that she could never have in her—_country_. She would have a life of ease and luxury! Well now she will feel as though she is a prisoner; I will see to that!"

"Father," said Boromir, slightly sitting up in his bed; "calm down, please."

"How can I? You are in the houses of healing because you were trying to bring your wife back home!"

Boromir sighed; there was obviously nothing that he could do to convince his father that Eowyn was too far away to be found.

Denethor suddenly stopped talking, and looked sharply at Boromir. "You don't want her to return, do you?"

"I never said that father," said Boromir.

"That is why I'm asking you."

"Of course I want her to return; that is why I went after her in the first place. But now I fear that we are too late—she could be anywhere now."

"That is why we will send out as much soldiers as possible in order to find her."

"You can do that for me but you could not do that for Faramir," said Boromir out of the blue.

"Do not question me on this, for we have already settled that," said Denethor, sounding calmer than he felt.

000

After a brief rest, the trio set out again; normally, they would have been completely exhausted, but now that they were so close to Mirkwood, they simply could not stop and sleep.

Finally, after journeying for a while, they entered the large forest.

Eowyn looked around the forest in awe and joy; they were now safe and would not be found.

000

The Shadow Elves set out again for Mordor; Faramir was once again bound and led, this time by a blond elf.

But before they set off, Selwyn approached Faramir.

"I hope that you enjoy the journey to Mordor, _Captain Faramir_," he spat.

"I know not what you are talking about," said Faramir, who was shocked and angry; he had trusted Tatiana with a secret that could have him killed, and she told Selwyn? Maybe she wasn't different from the 'Shadow Elves' after all.

"You know exactly of what I speak; and there is no denying it. I shall look forward to bringing you to your knees, Captain," he then laughed sarcastically and walked away.

Faramir was so angry that he almost forgot about his pain.

With a friend like Tatiana, who needed an enemy—right?

They had marched for some time now, but when they were near to Osgiliath, a few of the elves that had been sent to scout, returned saying that they had unexpected company.

So all of the elves hid behind large bushes, so that they would be able to attack the enemy and remain unseen.

They had been lying in wait for a little while, when they heard the sound of horses hoofs; all of the Elven-men poised their arrows.

There was a sudden quiet which made Faramir's stomach do knots; what if these were Gondorian soldiers?

Oh how he hoped not; for he would not wish his predicament on anyone.

Suddenly, Elven arrows whizzed through the air, and Faramir could hear the sound of horses going wild, along with the cries of men. And then, when all went silent again, Selwyn, who was responsible for shooting some arrows emerged from their hiding place, the other elves did so soon after; and when Faramir saw the sight before his eyes, he almost gasped:

There lying wounded on the ground, surrounded by dead horses were Laddyn, Marcus, Gybren, and all the other soldiers who were in pursuit of Faramir.

Selwyn smirked arrogantly; "Gondorian swine; they got what they deserved. Are they dead, Faelivrin?"

Faelivrin and some Elven-women, including Morwen and Tatiana went to check and see if they were dead.

"No, they are not dead," said an Elven-woman, whose name was Delwen.

Faramir did not know whether to be relieved or disappointed: on one hand, they were his fellow Gondorian men, and well…he wanted them to live; but on the other, they would wish that they were dead, for the Shadow Elves would make their lives a living hell. But after the inward debate, he decided not to think of the downside at the moment, and just be glad that they survived the brutal attack.

000

Theodred had now reached the Wold, and had taken a much needed rest; he hoped that he would be able to aid his cousin in just about any way possible, for he would never forgive himself if she got caught and was taken back to Minas Tirith to live as a bird in a cage.

Suddenly, just after he had refilled his water, he noticed something: he saw the remnants of a fire, and by the looks of it, it only seemed to be about a couple of days old.

"_I hope that this mean Eowyn has been here," _he thought to himself.

And little did he know how right he was!

000

Marcus awakened to a terrible pain in his left shoulder; he looked around and saw that he was in a strange place:

The sun was beginning to rise, and he saw elves busying themselves around the camp.

But where were his fellow soldiers?

Now, Marcus was not so annoyed by Laddyn, in fact, he would have given anything to see the soldier and know that he was alright.

His last memory was seeing an arrow whiz through the air…and after that all went black. All of a sudden, a raven-haired Elven-man approached the blond Gondorian.

"I see that you have awakened," he said looking down at the prisoner the way that he usually did.

"Who are you?" Marcus managed to ask, as he stared up at the elf, and he was not intimidated the least by his captor.

"I am Selwyn, the leader of this camp; but you need not tell me who you are, Gondorian."

"Where are the others?" Marcus asked.

"I presume that you have come to seek your lost Captain," said Selwyn, ignoring Marcus' question.

"I need not answer to you," Marcus said, for he got the feeling that Selwyn was not a very good elf.

"So you intend to act defiant? Well let me tell you that it will get you nowhere; for if you have come to find your Captain, then you have come to the right place."

Marcus didn't know how to respond to that, for he was in shock; chances were that Gelmir had been lying, for Faramir was still in captivity. But then again, what if he had been caught while deserting his men and had been recaptured?

Marcus had no way of knowing for certain, unless…unless he talked to Faramir.

"Let me see him," he somewhat ordered, despite the situation that he was in.

"You do not order me, Gondorian; but I shall honor your request, so that when you return to Gondor, they too shall know," so Turing to a brunette elf, he said; "Jaylyn, bring Captain Faramir so that the prisoner shall know that we truly have him."

With a slight nod, the elf walked off to find Faramir.

00

Tatiana spotted Faramir by a stream; he had not said even two words to her since their conversation in the tent, and she had no idea why; but she was soon going to find out. As Tatiana stood next to Faramir, he said nothing, but simply stared ahead.

"Faramir," she said, in a whisper, so that none would hear his real name. "Are you alright?"

Faramir turned to face her, and now she could really see the anger on his face. "How can I be, Tatiana? Tell me, how long after our conversation did you go to Selwyn and tell him everything that I had told you?"

Tatiana looked taken aback at what Faramir had said, for she had kept her word and had not said a word about what he had told her to anyone.

"How can you say that!" she exclaimed. "I have not told a single soul about your true identity!"

"Then who did? You was the only one who I confessed it to," said Faramir, his anger was beginning to diminish the moment that he looked into her honest eyes.

"That I do not know, but perhaps we could find out."

"How?" Faramir asked.

"Well I am sure that we will fig-"

Tatiana was cut off when they saw Jaylyn approaching; he wore a look of arrogance.

"You are to come with me, _Faramir_," he said, putting an emphasis on 'Faramir'.

So, with one last look at Tatiana, Faramir walked away with the elf; their walk was unusually silent, for Jaylyn said no bad remarks or anything of that sort.

They soon reached Selwyn, and Jaylyn left, leaving the three of them alone.

Faramir recognized Marcus, for he and Boromir were acquainted with one another.

"Marcus?" he asked, still a little in shock.

"Captain Faramir? You really are here! Is everything true?"

Selwyn walked away, and whispered to an elf. "Be discrete, but spy on them and see if they say anything suspicious, and then report to me."

The elf nodded, and hid behind some bushes.

"Everything like what?" Faramir asked, not sure what Marcus was talking about.

"Everything that Gelmir has said about you—he had accused you of desertion."

"Desertion! Surely you do not believe this-do you?" Faramir asked, trying to contain his anger.

"I did not know what to believe, my lord; for he was the only witness. But I am afraid that lord Denethor believes him," said Marcus, feeling guilty for believing at one time that Faramir had deserted his men.

"I would never, under any circumstances desert my men; you know that I would rather die then leave them when they need me most."

"Of course, my lord, I know," said Marcus.

000

They were now some ways into the forest when they stopped to rest. But as Eowyn and Arial relaxed together, Strider got up and said that he had to go.

"I will be back shortly, for I am just going to look around and make sure that all is safe; but stay put, for it is better if we journey together."

And with that being said, he left.

**_Some time later…_**

Eowyn awakened from her sleep, to find that Arial was not there, she called his name multiple times, only to have no answer; she knew that Strider had told them to stay put, but she had to find Arial.

And so, taking her sword with her, she went off to find him. The footsteps helped her to catch up, and it did not take long until she could see him, he was not very far from her; but as she turned around, she realized that she had forgotten the way back…


	25. Reunion

_**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews! I really appreciated them; I hope that you all enjoy this chappy : )_

**_Reviews:_**

_**-The Elvish Pirate And The Hobbit Ninja: **Those are awesome ways to annoy people! Thanks for the review : D_

_**-windstar: **Thanks for reviewing; I'm glad that you're enjoying the story!_

_**-Cindy: **Thanks for the advice Cindy; as long as you're correcting me I guess I'm always learning something. Thanks for taking the time to review._

**Uncertain Fates**

While Marcus and Faramir were talking, Selwyn approached the elf that he had ordered to eavesdrop on them.

"Have they said anything suspicious?" he asked.

"No, they have been talking a great deal about Gondor—that is all."

"You have done a good job; you may join the others now."

The elf gave a slight nod and left.

0-0

After what seemed like they had been talking forever, some Elven-men, along with Selwyn came and literally dragged the blond soldier away, much to Faramir's anger.

Selwyn returned to Faramir in a matter of minutes; he wore a smug look on his face.

"What have you done to him?" Faramir asked boldly.

"I have set him and his fellow men loose."

Faramir wasn't sure if he could take Selwyn's word for it—he was either just lying or he had some kind of trick up his sleeve…or what if…what if he had killed them?

"Did you kill them?" Faramir asked bluntly.

"Should I answer to you? I think not," as he turned to leave, he turned back to Faramir and dropped something on the ground. "Enjoy your meal."

Faramir watched the arrogant elf walk away before digging into his dry bread. He soon looked up again when he heard someone approaching.

It was Morwen; Faramir was shocked for he had not spoken with Morwen for a long while, she too seemed pleased to see him.

"Are you alright?" she asked looking at him with concern.

"Yes, I am alright; how are you? And how is Galen?"

The Elven-woman's face reddened slightly at the sound of Galen's name; "We are alright," she answered.

Faramir could tell by the look in her eyes that there was something that she wanted to tell him.

"Is there something that you want to say to me, Morwen?" he asked softly.

As she looked deep into his eyes, and he could see a look of desperation in them that he had never seen before.

"Galen and I…we are going to escape, and we want you to come with us for this could be our only chance."

"It is too dangerous!" Faramir said, he was worried about them and did not want them to be killed.

"No, it is not; Galen and I know these parts well and can escape unseen when the right opportunity comes along; will you not come with us?"

Faramir instantly thought of Tatiana—he could not just leave her with the evil elves of the camp.

"If I was to come with you, could I bring someone else with me?"

Morwen was not sure; she and Galen had planned for only three of them to escape, not four.

"Then it is true," she said in a low, soft voice.

"What is true?" Faramir asked.

"That she has you spellbound—it is impossible for you to deny it."

"If you are trying to say that I care for Tatiana, then you are right."

Morwen sighed; word had spread all around the camp that the Captain of Gondor was fascinated by Tatiana, and that he was falling for her.

"You care for her only as a friend?" Morwen asked.

Faramir stared Morwen right in the eye; "If she is unable to come with us, then I will stay here and let fate handle the rest."

"Indeed you _have_ fallen for her; does she feel the same way?"

"Yes; she is very beautiful, and I care for her more than I should, seeing that she is promised to someone else."

000

Marcus and his men had been taken far away from the camp of the Shadow elves, and when they looked up, they saw hope: they could see only a glimpse of the white city, but that was enough to make them persevere.

000

Arial did not even notice that lady Eowyn had been following him; he had dreamt that same dream again, and it was too much for him to take. He could not just wait around for Strider to return, he had to find his brother and that was all there was to it.

Suddenly, as he stopped at a tree to rest, he saw something that ripped his heart from his chest: he saw that the ground was soaked with blood; he kept on trying to tell himself that it could have been any elf, but when he saw something golden on the blood stained ground, he knew that it was his brother Aranel.

He knelt down and picked the golden object up; it was a golden locket. Their mother had given one to each of them before parting with them; they had treasured the gift, and would not exchange it for the most powerful ring of all.

Although he now knew what the odds were, he was not about to give up; so he began to trace the blood trail.

0-0

Eowyn, realizing that she was lost, had decided to continue going after Arial; it did not take her long to come to the tree where Aranel and Legolas had once been. When she saw the blood, she swallowed hard and hoped that whoever had been there previously was still alive.

As she continued to run, she saw Arial again, this time she was not going to let him get away.

"Arial!" she called out, making sure that she had gotten his attention.

The dark-haired elf turned around. "My lady? What are you doing here?"

"Arial, I-"

"Do not tell me that you have been following me all this time!" said Arial; the last things he wanted were for her to get involved—or lost.

"Yes; I have been following you, but only because I was worried when I awakened to find that you was not there!" Eowyn said, her voice rising.

"Did you not hear what Strider said!" exclaimed the elf.

"Did _you_ not hear?" Eowyn said.

"My lady," said Arial, his voice softening. "I understand that you were worried; but I am alright. Now please go back the way that you came and wait for Strider."

"I do not remember the way," Eowyn said.

"You do not remember the way?" Arial said; could things get any worse? He had found the locket which belonged to his brother, lying on blood soaked ground, and now they were lost?

Just then, they found themselves surrounded by Elven archers, the arrows were being pointed directly at them.

"Who are you? And what brings you here?" asked a blond elf, putting his bow and arrow down.

"We mean no harm—I am Arial, and this is my friend lady Eowyn of Rohan."

The blond elf looked at them with suspicion; he then turned to one of his fellow elves and whispered something.

Before Eowyn and Arial could do anything, the elves had pulled out rope, and began binding their wrists.

"Get your hands off of me!" Eowyn said to the elf that was tying her up.

"Please my lady, try to stay calm. I do not think that they intend to hurt us," said Arial, for he thought that it would be better for them if they were obedient.

0-0

When Strider returned, Arial and Eowyn were no where to be found; he searched the camp, and then when he saw that her sword which had been attached to Windfola's saddle was missing, he began to fear the worst.

000

"I do not think that she will be able to come with us," Morwen answered as honestly as she possibly could.

"If it is going to be that way then she must take my place, for I would rather be left here and know that she was going to be free."

"So you will give up what could possibly be your last chance to escape, so that Tatiana can be free?" asked a familiar male voice.

Faramir looked up and found himself staring into the face of Galen.

"It has been too long since we last exchanged words, my friend," said Faramir; the sight of his friend Galen brought a smile to his face.

"Yes my lord, it has been too long."

Morwen smiled lightly, she had heard from around the camp that he was indeed Faramir, Captain of Gondor.

Faramir wasn't exactly thrilled by the fact that everyone knew his true identity, for he did not even tell Tatiana that Galen knew who he was.

"But yes, Galen," said Faramir resuming the conversation. "If it must be so, then I will stay."

Galen and Morwen exchanged glances. Finally, Galen spoke again.

"This could be your only chance, my lord; are you certain?"

"Yes, I am certain."

0-0

Not long after Morwen and Galen had left to resume their duties around the camp, Tatiana came to see him once more.

"Tatiana, there is something that I must tell you," Faramir said urgently.

"What is it?" she asked, knowing by the look on his face that it had to be something serious.

"Morwen and Galen are going to escape—and you are to go with them."

Tatiana looked shocked by two things: one: she was going to escape. And two: Faramir was not going with her.

"Why are you not coming with me?" she asked.

Faramir did not want to make her feel guilty by telling her that he gave up his opportunity so that she would be able to escape, so instead he decided to tell a white lie.

"I am constantly under close watch, day or night, so then I would jeopardize everything."

Tatiana focused her gaze on the ground. "I see," she said in a low voice.

"But do not be down," said Faramir, gently lifting her face upward.

As she stared into his eyes, hers began to water; "I cannot leave without you, Faramir; I can't!"

He embraced the weeping elf, and gently stroked her hair. "You must do this, it is your only chance; there will be another for me," he said.

She drew out of the hug and looked up at him.

"We will see each other again—I promise."

000

Denethor had summoned twenty top soldiers to a meeting; when they were all seated, he began to speak:

"As you know, my first-born son, Boromir married that woman of Rohan…" he stopped for a moment to regain his composure.

"And she has run away with my Elven servant; it is very possible that they are in Mirkwood as I speak. The first attempt to find her and bring her back was a failure; and my son was wounded in process. But this time, we will not fail, I want each of you to assemble the best soldiers and Rangers that you can find, and bring her back to my son."


	26. Faramir's fate

_**A/N: **Thanks to all of those who read the last chappy--whether they reviewed or not. Anyway, I hope that you guys enjoy this chappy._

**_Reviews:_**

_**-The Elvish Pirate And The Hobbit Ninja: **Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad that you love this story; its reviews like yours that motivate me to finish this fic, so thanks : - )_

**Uncertain Fates**

"And what are we to do with her Elven companion?" One of the soldiers asked.

Denethor seemed thoughtful for a moment; "You may kill him if you wish—especially if he tries to get in the way of you retrieving her. For if he is brought back to Minas Tirith alive, he will not even face trial—he shall be put to death, that is final."

"As you wish, my lord," replied the loyal soldier.

"Good; I am grateful to have such loyal soldiers who will fulfill their duty just as I ask of them; you are all excused now," said Denethor, wanting some time alone.

000

The next morning, Boromir awakened to find someone dabbing a cool cloth on his forehead; when he opened his eyes, they met Norah's worried ones.

"My lord, I was worried for you—are you alright?" she asked.

"Yes, I feel alright; what are you doing here?" he asked, rubbing his forehead a little; he had a mild headache, and he soon realized that he had quite a temperature. But him being a Captain of Gondor, he still maintained some kind of pride, which he would lose only in death.

"Are you sure, my lord? You appear to be feverish."

"I assure you that I feel just fine, Norah," he said, looking at her intently.

Once again there was an uncomfortable silence, which neither broke for a little while.

"Well my lord," Norah said, eventually breaking the silence; "I suppose that I should go now and let you rest."

As she turned to leave, Boromir stopped her by taking a gentle, but firm hold of her slender wrist.

The chestnut-haired maiden turned around and stared into his face.

"I have been 'resting' for too long; besides, I could use your company."

Norah found it almost impossible to say no to, so she sat down and kept the lord of Gondor company.

000

Earlier that night, while Boromir was sleeping soundly, Eowyn and Arial were blindfolded, and were being led firmly but not harshly, through the forest of Mirkwood.

"_We should have stayed and listened to Strider!" _Eowyn thought._ "Why didn't we stay!"_

She could see nothing, for the blindfold was thick; she wished that she could at least know where they were going, for even though she usually loved the unknown, for she knew not what life would be without some kind of mystery, this time she felt differently; she hated the unknown.

0-0

Strider, being a Ranger, was able to find their footprints and follow their trail in almost no time at all. Soon, he too passed by the tree where Aranel had once been with his companion, the Prince of Mirkwood.

Also, since he had spent most of his life with the elves, he had had a chance to learn their stealthy skills and agility. He darted through the forest as though he were an elf himself; although it took him a little while until they were in sight, he finally could see glimpses of elves; he did not know where else Eowyn and Arial could be if they were not with the elves, for he had followed their footprints, and had read the ground: all the evidence pointed to the elves; they had to be with the elves.

0-0

As Eowyn was being led along, she stumbled on a tree branch that had broken off and had fallen to the ground.

She felt firm hands help her to her feet; she was not sure whether she should thank the elf, for these were still the same elves that had taken them captive; she wished that she and Arial had put up more of a fight, for to her, Arial had now delayed finding his brother who was obviously in danger.

And what if the elves sent them out of the forest; where would they go?

Suddenly, the elves stopped walking; one of the elves had heard something—or someone.

"I could hear footsteps, my lord; I am not exaggerating," he said firmly.

"I am sure that you heard what you claim, Thoden," the leader said. "But we must continue nonetheless, if we are to reach lord Thranduil's palace tonight."

"Yes my lord," said Thoden.

And so they continued the long, exhausting walk to King Thranduil's palace; until they heard a man's voice coming from behind.

"Legolas!" the man called, trying to the Prince's attention.

He succeeded; the Prince of Mirkwood ordered his fellow elves to stop and walked to the man.

To both Eowyn and Arial, the voice had sounded familiar, but one could never always be certain.

"Aragorn!" the elf exclaimed, embracing his long-time friend; "What brings you back to the Woodland realm so soon? I thought you said that you were going to Gondor on an errand," said the elf, surprised to see him, but not unhappy in the least.

"It is good to see you also, my friend; there was a change in my plans—I cannot stay here long, though."

"Well father will receive you with open arms nonetheless; we are journeying back to the palace, will you not join us?"

Aragorn placed both his hands on his friend's shoulders; "Legolas, is it possible that there is a woman with you, and an elf of Rivendell?"

Legolas' face turned serious; "Yes, why?"

They were speaking at a decent tone, but since Eowyn and Arial were a good distance away, it was now impossible for them to hear the remainder of the conversation.

"They are my friends-not trespassers as you probably are thinking, for I brought them here so that they would find safety."

The elf frowned; "Perhaps I would be able to understand an elf of Rivendell showing up in these parts, but a lady of Rohan? I do not understand."

"All will be explained in due time; but it would help if they were freed from their bonds."

"Of course," the elf agreed. "I apologize, for I knew not that you were even in the wood, so you must understand my taking them prisoner."

"I understand my friend, it was just a misunderstanding," said Aragorn good-naturedly.

All Eowyn knew was that the man's name was Aragorn and that he was friends with the elf named Legolas; she had learnt as a child that Legolas was the Prince of Mirkwood, although she obviously never had had the chance to meet him in person.

When they returned, Legolas ordered for their bonds to be cut, and to have their blindfolds removed.

When they removed Eowyn's, she let out a gasp: Strider was Aragorn!

"Y…you are Aragorn?" she asked.

Arial was almost just as shocked as she was, but did not show it too much, due to the fact that Aranel was still on his mind.

"Yes, my lady; that is also my name," replied the Ranger; yes, Aragorn had a lot of names, and they could serve to a certain advantage when he needed a quick alias.

To Eowyn, Strider, or should we say 'Aragorn' was always surprising her; she was beginning to get more and more intrigued by him with each passing day.

000

Now back to the present day: As Selwyn lay in his tent, on his makeshift bed, with his arms behind his head; Sherah entered.

"What is it?" Selwyn asked, not wanting to be bothered. "Did we not discuss everything earlier?"

"No; we did not," answered the man of Harad.

Selwyn shot Sherah a look of defiance. "In my opinion, we have; so leave and tend to your men for we shall set out earlier today."

He was met by a hard slap across the face.

Selwyn stood up and faced Sherah; the slap did not hurt, for it was something done to humiliate the other, like a 'put you in your place' gesture; and Selwyn did not like it one bit.

He drew one of his long Elven knives and held it against Sherah's neck, "The next time you even think about doing that again, think of this: I will slit your throat in an instant, and hang your worthless corpse on a tree as a true symbol of humiliation; I have not the time for your stupidity."

As Sherah felt the cold, sharp blade against his neck, he wanted to shrink away, but he too had pride, and so instead of looking fearful, he wore a look of arrogance.

"Now what is it that you have bothered me for?" snapped the elf.

"It is about the prisoner-Faramir. I know exactly what you should do with him."

"And what would that be? Hmm…perhaps selling him to you so that you can make a fortune by selling him to some other wealthy man of Harad? I think not."

"No, you should not sell him to me or anyone else; what I am proposing is that you make him be of use to us and our cause."

A slight frown came over Selwyn's fair but stern face. "What exactly are you proposing? That he joins the Shadow elves?"

Sherah raised an eyebrow. "Not quite; I am suggesting that you make him a slave in Mordor—but he still belongs to you of course, only that he labors in the land, and since he is a Ranger, he should know a good deal of information should we need it, or if we need him to fight for us, he will."

Selwyn looked thoughtful for a moment, and then when he spoke, his brilliant brown eyes twinkled; "I like your suggestion—that is exactly what we shall to the Captain of Gondor."

000

As Marcus and his men walked wearily (for they barely stopped to rest, despite their wounds); they could see something in the distance.

Marcus shielded the sun from his eyes as he tried to get a better view; but it did not help; the figures appeared to be moving directly towards them.

"Oh no," said Laddyn, who apparently had better eyesight than Marcus. "Orcs."

That was enough to make them all reach for their weapons, but they found none: the Shadow elves had taken their weapons from them and had not given them back.

"Those elves…" Marcus growled.

Laddyn put a hand on the fuming soldiers shoulder; "Now is not the time to be angry with the elves; right now we must find a safe place to hide until they pass us by."

"And before they see us," a soldier added.

And so they scurried about as fast as they could, looking for a hiding place; but unfortunately there was nothing besides green hills and a few bushes. They decided that the bushes were their only hope so they hid behind them.

In a few moments they could hear the orcs trudging along.

"I know what I saw," said a large orc in a loud, gruff voice. "There were men along the road, and then they must have scurried off when they saw us coming!"

"You always think that you see men, Granbash!" moaned an orc in a squeaky voice.

"Shut up! You're no better!" croaked the big orc. "I know what I saw!"

"Call me what you want but-" the skinny orc stopped in his tracks and started sniffing the air. "I smell man flesh."

"I told you so; my nose is by far more alert than your snotty one!"

Marcus and the other soldiers held their breath as some of the orcs came their way. They soon found themselves surrounded by the evil creatures.

"Thought you could hide from us, didn't you?" taunted the skinny orc; "You should have known better."


	27. The bitter parting

_**A/N: **Wow! I managed to post an early update! I hope that you guys enjoy it!_

**_Reviews:_**

_**-The Elven Pirate And The Hobbit Ninja: **Only time will tell how Norah and Boromir feel about each other, hopefully this chapter will shed some light on their feelings; thanks for reviewing: )_

**Uncertain Fates**

Now to the present with lady Eowyn, Aragorn, and the elves:

They had been able to safely return to Thranduil's palace. When they entered, an Elven servant approached Legolas.

"Lord Legolas, a healer sent me to inform you of Aranel's condition."

Arial's eyes widened, "My brother is here?" he asked in shock.

Legolas turned to Arial, "Hosea is your brother?" he asked, slightly gesturing to the now confused servant.

"No my lord, Aranel is my brother; that is the reason why I came to your wood. May I go to him?"

"Yes, you may," replied Legolas, but before Aranel could leave, he gestured for him to stop and turned his attention back to the servant. "How is he?"

"He is conscious—and stable, he was very lucky my lord."

A small smile crept across Legolas' face due to the good news; "That is very good news; now Hosea, if you would be so kind as to take Arial to his brother…"

Legolas didn't even have to finish; the Elven servant nodded obediently and he and Arial were soon out of sight.

Thranduil's palace was no doubt a beautiful palace; it was the sort of place that had only been thought to exist in ones dream.

Eowyn couldn't help looking around in awe; yes, she had seen many beautiful places in her short life of only twenty years, but she had never seen anything so beautiful:

It had a beautiful high ceiling with tree engravings, and the tall mahogany pillars stood out.

The floor was made of marble, and the large floor length windows were trimmed with gold. Eowyn seemed to take all of this in, in just a matter of seconds; she did not even realize that they were on their way to see King Thranduil.

000

The orcs dragged the wounded soldiers of Gondor from their hiding place.

"What should we do with them?" asked the squeaky orc.

"I say that we make a meal out of them!" said Granbash, riling up the rest of the orcs.

"Yes, yes, we must eat them! How long has it been since we've tasted man flesh!" exclaimed a malnourished orc.

Marcus looked at his fellow soldiers; none of them wanted to die—especially that way.

"Too long!" said another big orc.

The malnourished orc drew his curved blade and bared his teeth. "So long, fodder; you'll soon be in our bellies!" he licked his dry cracked lips and began to slowly advance; the other orcs stood and watched, for it had been a while since they had had some good entertainment.

"Prepare to die," he sneered.

000

Morwen had been able to steal away with Tatiana for a moment, and it was then that she revealed more about the plan.

"We shall leave tonight—we have to leave tonight, for it is now or never."

Tatiana swallowed; she hated the very thought of leaving Faramir; ever since their emotional conversation, she had put the situation all the way into the back of her head, and now she had to face it head on.

"Tonight?" she asked, hoping for there to be an alternative. There wasn't.

"Yes, tonight has to be the night; once we escape, we will make out way to Cair Andros; that place holds bitter memories for Galen, but it is our only chance, seeing that we both know that area well."

Tatiana stared ahead for a few moments, thinking about saying goodbye. Their conversation was interrupted when they could hear Jaylyn calling.

"I must go now," said Tatiana.

Morwen nodded slightly, and watched Tatiana make her way towards her fiancée (not by choice).

She stood there for a moment, thinking about how grieved Tatiana looked; Morwen began to wonder how deep Tatiana's feelings were for Faramir.

000

When Norah finally left, she almost instantly found herself face to face with Denethor. He did not look pleased to see her in the least.

"What are you doing here?" he asked coldly.

"I…I…I was here to see lo-"

Her stammering was sharply cut off by Denethor. "You came to see my son; in case you have failed to notice: he is alive and well, and your assistance is no longer needed; you may now return to your previous duties. I will see to it that another healer takes over, understood?"

Norah did not know what else to say except for "Understood" The way that Denethor looked at her made her want to shrink away; she didn't know why Denethor didn't want her to visit Boromir anymore, but for now she could do nothing except hold back her tears, bow her head in reverence, and walk away.

Denethor made sure that she had left before going in to see his son.

Boromir was lying in bed, propped up by the fluffiest pillows that the healers had been able to find; he did not prefer to have that sort of treatment, for he hated having to stay bed ridden. But Norah's visits always lifted his spirits.

"Father," Boromir said, looking up from the book which he had just started to read. "What are you doing here?"

"Is it a crime for a father to want to check on his wounded son?" Denethor asked, allowing a smile to creep across his face.

"No, it is not a crime; but I know you, and you are up to something for I can see it in your eyes," Boromir said; he was glad that Denethor had decided to see him but suspected that the Steward had not just come to check up on him.

Denethor sighed; "It is impossible to keep anything from you—yes, I have also come to talk to you about something, or should I say someone."

Boromir's smile faded; "What is it, father?" he asked.

"Son, even though your wife is on the loose right now, it does not mean that you have to find comfort in the arms of another woman—her maid least of all."

Boromir looked at his father in shock. "How can you possibly say that I am trying to find comfort in the arms of _Norah_? Father, I just enjoy her company that is all!"

"Son-"

"Tell me that you did not mention a word of this to Norah, tell me father!"

"Son, you are not completely better; you should not get so stressed out," Denethor said calmly.

"What did you tell her?" asked a now fuming Boromir.

"I told her that her services are no longer needed."

"Can I not spend time with Norah without you thinking something vile! Leave me!"

"Son, you do not mean-"

He was interrupted when a furious Boromir threw a vase, causing it to shatter against the door.

Denethor was now annoyed; he stood up to leave, but turned around to say one last thing. "The two of you are becoming too close; you must remember that you have a wife. And I will see to it that that maid does not jeopardize your marriage!" and with that, Denethor left, slamming the door behind him.

000

Once Theodred had finally reached the field of Celebrant, he almost fell off of his horse due to exhaustion.

He now knew that it would not be much longer until he reached the forests of Mirkwood that was what motivated him to go on.

Now that he thought about it, entering Mirkwood and finding Eowyn would not be very easy at all, in fact, chances were that he would get taken prisoner for trespassing before he even knew where to look.

He sighed as these thoughts raced through his head. He lay down on the welcoming green grass with his arms behind his head and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

000

When Norah returned to her dwelling, she wept and wept; it had been too hard to hold back the tears; she lay on her bed with her head buried in the pillow to muffle her crying.

She didn't know why Denethor didn't want her to see Boromir anymore, as far as she was concerned, she had done nothing wrong.

The way that Denethor had looked down on her made her feel smaller than a Halfling; the tears began to flow rapidly again as she recalled their conversation; Denethor had been as cold as ice, and now she knew that he had intended to make her feel as though she was only an inch tall.

Was she going to stop seeing Boromir because of that incident?

The answer was no.

000

Thinking quickly, Marcus sprang to his feet, jabbed the orc in the stomach, and to the other orcs' horror, took the long knife.

"Get him!" roared Granbash.

Marcus quickly killed the skinny orc, and when he saw his fellow soldiers running off, he attempted to join them, but it was of no use: Granbash caught him, and in no time the orcs had recaptured his fellow soldiers.

He tried to fight Granbash off, but the orc bit him in his right shoulder, causing dark red blood to flow freely. The orc, not being able to resist the temptation, began to lick the blood, ignoring Marcus' groans of pain.

It all seemed to happen in an instant; the sound of marching footsteps could now be heard. Granbash dropped Marcus as though he was a tin of trash.

Soon the men came into view, and a still conscious Marcus backed away from Granbash, but when he saw who was approaching, he knew that their chances to escape had run out.

"Haradrim," he said aloud.

0-0

When the Haradrim reached the orcs, they had surveyed the prisoners, and had officially taken charge; the orcs were displeased by this, but they were out-numbered so they had no choice but to comply with the man of Harad.

000

That night, Morwen, Tatiana, and Galen were going to make their escape, but before they did, Tatiana paid a visit to Faramir.

She easily found him, but she knew that they wouldn't be able to talk for long, due to the fact that the Shadow Elves were getting ready to set out for Mordor once more.

When he saw her, his eyes smiled instantly.

"Tatiana, I was just about to look for you…Galen told me that this is the night."

She bowed her head, "Yes, this night we will set our course for Cair Andros."

"Before you go, Tatiana, there is something that I must say to you—I do not know if you feel the same way," he stopped for a moment and looked upon her face for what would possibly be the last time. "Fate has chosen to separate us, and the only thing I am certain about right now is the way that I feel about you."

Tatiana looked up at the Captain of Gondor, she was inwardly dying to hear those three words, for he would not just be voicing out how he felt, but he would also unknowingly state her true feelings for him; she had tried not to show her love for him which had developed into such too soon for her to stop it. She knew that by expressing her love for Faramir outwardly, she might as well ask Jaylyn to kill him on the spot.

"Tatiana, I love you."

There was a precious silence in the air, one that neither of them would forget.

"Tatiana!" hissed Morwen, trying to find Tatiana without anyone noticing.

Tatiana looked in the direction of the voice, then back at Faramir. "I—I…I love you too," was all that she could say; the two embraced each other, hoping that that would not be their last meeting; but she soon had to leave for the time had come: the camp was very busy, for the elves were bustling about, preparing to leave. That was their only chance of escape; Tatiana reluctantly drew herself out of the hug, and after looking back one last time, ran to join Galen and Morwen.

Faramir stared after his love until she was out of sight; he'd make sure that he saw Tatiana again, or he would die trying.


	28. Aragorn's goodbye

_**A/N: **Well, here is chappy twenty eight; I hope that you guys enjoy it; and don't forget to review: )_

**_Reviews:_**

_**-The Elven Pirate And The Hobbit Ninja: **I'm glad you think that this is the best lotr fic that you have read; thank you! It really does mean a lot. Also, those are really funny ways to annoy people, and I wish that I could see that picture of Selwyn... thanks for reviewing : )_

**Uncertain Fates**

The leader of the men of Harad walked up to the Gondorian prisoners.

"Well, I suppose you _Gondorians_ ought to be grateful that we found you first," he remarked cheekily.

Marcus looked up at the man of Harad; he was well dressed but not dressed for battle. He looked as though he was one of great wealth; one could guess that he was a merchant.

"I do not owe any Haradrim my thanks," spat the soldier.

The man of Harad kicked him in the face. "In the future, you will learn to speak to me better."

Marcus wiped the blood from his mouth and nose; as a soldier he was used to pain, so he handled it well.

A Haradrim soldier suddenly approached. "Uzi, should we feed them now?" he asked.

"Yes," he said, suddenly forcefully lifting up Marcus' chin. "Give them some of our best meat; I will barely get any money if I try to sell them in this condition."

Marcus forcefully removed Uzi's hand; he knew that there had to be some way to get out of this.

000

Eowyn was shown to a beautiful room with large windows overlooking the forest below; earlier that day she had met King Thranduil. That was a meeting that she would not soon forget.

She had been at loss for words, but the King had treated her kindly for she was a friend of Aragorn.

She hugged herself as she stood by the window, enjoying the cool breeze. She figured that she would have to get used to Mirkwood, for it was now her new home.

000

As Denethor looked out on the Pelennor, he could see the soldiers riding off; he smiled to himself, knowing that it was only a matter of time until Eowyn was found and brought back to the white city. But then his thoughts wandered to her closest handmaiden, Norah.

What was he supposed to do with her? He knew not, but all he knew was that he did not want his son falling for her. No, that would never happen, he knew that he had to stop it before it was too late and Boromir was so in love with her that he would not be able to see things straight.

0-0

As Eomer happened to walk by what used to be his sisters quarters, he noticed that the door was ajar.

Taken over by curiosity, Eomer entered. At first it seemed as though no one was inside, but Boromir soon heard the sound of someone sobbing softly.

"_Could it be?"_ thought Eomer, letting his wild imagination get the better of him.

But as he entered Eowyn's bedroom, he soon saw that he was wrong, for standing by the window, reorganizing flowers, was Norah. It seemed that she didn't hear him enter.

"Are you alright, Norah?" asked a concerned Eomer.

She gasped and turned around, "My lord," she said, slightly putting her head down so that he would not see her reddened eyes. "I am sorry; I did not hear you enter."

"Are you alright?" Eomer repeated, walking closer.

Norah saw this and stepped to the left. "Yes, my lord; I am fine."

"Are you sure?" Eomer asked, not sure whether or not to bring up her sobbing.

"Yes, my lord; I was just replacing the flowers—the others were quite sickly."

"_That's what it is!"_ Thought Eomer, "Norah, I know that you miss lady Eowyn—believe me, I do too. But it will comfort you to know that she is in a better place; she does not have to live in misery—betrothed to a man that she doesn't love."

"You call this misery?" Norah snapped.

Norah's sudden change in attitude caused Eomer raise an eyebrow.

"She made it miserable for herself! She was not even willing to try, lord Boromir is a good man, but yet she did not even give herself a chance to love him. She didn't even give him a chance to love her; and you and Theodred pity her!" the tears began to stream down her cheeks again.

Eomer knew that that outburst was not like Norah at all, but she had hurt him when she had said those things about Eowyn.

"What is wrong with you!" he asked in an angry raised voice. He took her firmly by her shoulders.

"My sister has always loved you and treated you better than all of the servants! She has loved you for as long as she has known you; and yet you cannot understand why she did not want to live her life in misery! Yes, lord Boromir may be a good man, but being a good man and a good woman is not all there is to falling in love! Don't you ever let me catch you insulting my sister so wrongfully; you are but a maid, and you have no right to judge, for none of us are perfect!"

Norah removed herself from his firm, yet painless grasp. "I am sorry, my lord if found my words untrue. It's just that…it's just that lord Boromir is a good man who was also forced into marriage, and he does not deserve this! If she had not run away, then he would not have been wounded—it was her fault, my lord; you know it to be true."

Eomer ran a hand through his hair; no, it was not Eowyn's fault. He was to blame, even though he had not intended for Boromir to be harmed.

000

As the elves and the soldiers of Harad prepared to set out, Jaylyn wanted to talk to Tatiana quickly about something concerning Faramir; he was going to force her to cut her ties with him, or else he would kill Faramir.

Now as he thought about it, he would face his consequences gladly, if he killed Faramir, and he intended to tell Tatiana just that.

The only problem was that he could not find her anywhere.

Selwyn noticed that the elf had wandered off from the rest. "Jaylyn, what are you doing?" he snapped impatiently.

An out of breath Jaylyn returned to his leader. "Selwyn, I have searched everywhere; I cannot find Tatiana."

Selwyn looked frustrated at the fact that their journey would be delayed; there were more than a few Shadow elves, so it was not easy to always know where they were.

Selwyn sighed before speaking to the distressed elf again; "Send Galen to look; she must have wandered off—senseless…" he did not even finish what he was about to say.

After searching for Galen, they found that he too was missing; Selwyn then sent a group of elves to look for them, because he now knew that all was not right.

And when it was also discovered that Morwen was not there either, Selwyn sent more elves after them, but before they left, he said this:

"Kill Tatiana and Galen—but do not even so much as harm a hair on my sisters head."

"Selwyn!" cried Jaylyn running up to him. "Please do not have Tatiana killed; I will deal with her myself…please."

"You've had your chance; you cannot even control a woman—I have no choice but to deal with the matter as I wish."

"Please do not do this," Jaylyn pleaded in a low tone.

Selwyn ignored the elf, and gave the signal for the scouting elves to leave.

0-0

They had been waiting for a while when the scouting elves finally returned—without the escapees.

For a moment, Sherah showed some kind of compassion, for he too had a sister; she also opposed his beliefs, but yet he loved her and wanted nothing bad to happen to her.

He put an understanding hand on Selwyn's shoulder; the elf did not bother to remove Sherah's hand.

"Although I know not what it is like to lose a sister, I feel your pain, for I do not know what I would do if she suddenly disappeared."

Selwyn said nothing; he knew that they had to continue for they were very close to the Morannon, and could not stop now.

"Let us continue our journey," Selwyn said in a low voice.

But as they made ready to leave once again, he stopped and told a few of the elves to stay behind for a while, and search every mile of that area.

Faramir hoped that they wouldn't find them, for he knew that he would never see Tatiana's beautiful face again.

And so they set off once again. Destination: Mordor.

000

Eowyn had fallen asleep that night, when a knock on the door awakened her.

When she looked out the window and saw that it was not yet morning, she began to worry; what if Gondorian soldiers _had _found her?

But then she had to check herself.

Would Thranduil really let them come and take her?

She could not answer that for she didn't know the King that well. She struggled to push those thoughts all the way to the back of her mind as she flung the door open.

She sighed with relief when she found herself staring into Aragorn's face, but yet she had no idea why he had come in the middle of the night.

"Is something wrong?" she half asked, half guessed.

"No, my lady; I have just come to say goodbye. I must return to Rivendell."

Eowyn's face stiffened. "Why must you leave now?" she asked.

"Because of many reasons; but I will return to see you again, my lady."

"I thought that you were going to stay here for at least a little while," she said, trying to hide her grief.

"So did I, but I must leave now, for lady Arwen is anxiously awaiting my return."

"Arwen," Eowyn said, somewhat coldly. "Is that your main reason for leaving?"

Aragorn noticed the sadness in her eyes; "I also must aid a good friend in a search for someone."

Eowyn forced a smile. "Then may our paths soon cross again; it as a pleasure to journey with you. So…goodbye; you do not want to keep lady Arwen waiting," and with that she closed the door…well, almost slammed the door in his face, leaving a confused Ranger standing like a shadow in the long, dimly lit hall.

000

They continued to journey, even as the sun began to rise; and now their long journey had paid off. They had reached the Morannon.

A sudden darkness came over Faramir's heart as he stared at those great black gates, which he had only heard in stories; when he looked up, he saw no sun. The darkness was everywhere, and it reeked with the odor of flesh and death.

The gates were slowly opened, and the Shadow elves and the men of Harad marched in together.

Faramir could see the dreaded dark tower of Barad Dur in the distance, and mount doom spewed out its flames.

The ever-watching eye looked upon them as they entered the dark land; Faramir could feel its scorching heat.

Selwyn then took Faramir, and walked with him in silence for a few miles, until they had almost reached their destination.

"I knew that you would learn to appreciate me one day," Selwyn said arrogantly.

"I will never appreciate you," Faramir shot back.

"You may think that now, but once you realize your fate, that will be a different story."

"What are you talking about?" Faramir asked.

"As of now, you are now a slave in Mordor—you are still under my protection of course, so they can do anything but kill you," Selwyn then laughed evilly, and being that he was stronger than Faramir, pushed him into a group of waiting orcs.

"Enjoy your life in Mordor _slave_!" Selwyn said, before leaving Faramir alone with the vicious orcs of Mordor.

_**A/N 2:**Thank you The Elven Pirate And The Hobbit Ninja! You have just given me a great idea! To all of you who are reading this story, I want to know who you picture my OCs looking like; it could be anybody, feel free to e-mail me and tell me, but I'll only have my e-mail on display until sunday, and for those of you who might not want to e-mail...I'll accept a review!_


	29. Bashgash the cruel

_**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews! I really appreciated them, and I hope that you guys like this chappy; remember, I'm taking my e-mail off display tomorrow, so today is your last chance to e-mail me about the OC's, and I apologize for the short chappy, in order for the story to be spaced out right, this chapter had to be short...sorry. : -)_

**_Reviews:_**

_**-The Elvish Pirate And The Hobbit Ninja: **I'm home-schooled too! What a cool coincidence; anyway, the picture that you drew sounded really funny, so thanks for reviewing and sharing your opinion. : -)_

_**-windstar: **Glad you liked the chappy; thanks for the review: -D_

**Uncertain Fates**

That morning, as Eowyn walked through the beautiful gardens in Mirkwood, she spotted Legolas.

When he heard the sound of footsteps approaching, he looked up and was surprised to see Eowyn.

"Good morning, my lady," he said politely.

"Good morning, my lord," Eowyn said, just as politely.

"Would you care to join me?" he asked, gesturing for her to join him on the bench.

"Thank you, my lord," she said, taking him up on his offer.

"You need not call me that, my lady; I would prefer it if you called me by my name," he said, for he had always preferred to be addressed as Legolas, and not 'my lord'.

"As you wish," said Eowyn. "And I would be grateful if you did the same for me."

Eowyn was trying not to think about her previous but brief life in Gondor; she just wanted to start afresh.

For some reason, she could not stop thinking about her bitter parting with Aragorn; she didn't know why she acted the way she did, but she did not feel too sorry about it.

"Does Aragorn always do that?" she asked suddenly.

"Does he always do what, Eowyn?" Legolas asked.

"Leave on such short notice," replied the lady of Rohan.

"Not always, but he is a Ranger, and they tend to move from place to place sometimes—are you upset because he has left on such short notice?"

Eowyn put her head down a little; this wasn't really like her. Aragorn had promised to return and she knew that he wasn't going to stay forever, but she loved his company, and there was just something different about him; he seemed to be more than just a Ranger.

"Me? No, I am not upset, I'm just surprised."

"Well I am sure that he has missed lady Arwen and can hardly wait to return to her."

"I suppose that they are madly in love, then."

"Oh yes, they both love each other very mu—" Legolas cut himself off; after they had met King Thranduil, he and Eowyn had talked for a little while, and she had openly told him her reasons for running away; the main reason was that she didn't love her husband, so Legolas now felt guilty, knowing that he had touched a soft spot.

"I'm sorry, Eowyn; I didn't mean—"

"It's alright; I can hear about love without getting upset. Tell what she looks like."

And so as Legolas described Arwen to her, the Elven woman seemed to be extremely beautiful, and after she had heard many things about her, she almost wanted to ask to meet her.

000

The orcs suddenly stopped and parted to let a large orc walk through; he stopped when he reached Faramir.

Two strong orcs were holding Faramir, and others had their swords pointed at him, so he knew better than to move.

"Ah, new slave," said the big orc.

Faramir wanted to do nothing more than shrink away, when he smelt the breath of the large orc; it smelt like rotten flesh and stale water.

The orc made sure that he was now talking directly into Faramir's face.

"I am Bashgash the cruel, and I am going to make your life a living hell!" and after he spat in Faramir's face, he burst into laughter.

"Get away from me, you piece of filth," Faramir said, maintaining his dignity despite that humiliation.

"You call me filth?" the orc asked angrily, tilting his head and walking closer to the Ranger, "I'll show you what filth is; mark him, boys!"

Faramir fought with all his might as they dragged him on the muddy ground, but to no avail.

He was brought to a fire, where he could see a brand.

"I hope you're enjoying this as much as I am!" squeaked an orc.

The last thing that Faramir remembered was seeing an orc hurl a large rock directly at him, and not being able to move, due to the fact that two orcs were still holding him; after that, all went black.

0-0

When he awakened, he was lying on the dirty muddy ground; he put his hand on his muddy forehead and found blood.

The orcs were nowhere to be seen, but Faramir knew that they still had to be near; this was only the beginning of his life as a slave in Mordor, and if he wanted to survive then he would have to get used to it.

Suddenly, he saw something on his lower forearm; he touched it and he felt a sudden pain: he had been branded while he was unconscious. He was glad that he was not awake to experience that painful ordeal, but he could understand what the branding said; it looked almost as though it was some form of elvish, but he had a feeling that that wasn't the case.

He had no idea how right he was, for it was not a language of the elves, it was that of Mordor; suddenly, he felt a rough arm almost drag him up.

"Come on, we've got work to do! Bashgash won't have you lazing around!" shouted an orc.

Faramir was barely able to stand, but he had a strong will to live, and he knew that in order to escape Mordor, he would have to live as a slave until the opportune moment.

000

That morning, Boromir had insisted that he was well enough to at least walk in the garden; the healers had agreed, and said that it would be good for him to get some fresh air.

As he walked in the gardens, he thought that he was alone until he saw a certain chestnut haired woman picking flowers in the lush grass beyond.

"Norah?" he asked, at a tone loud enough for her to hear.

She immediately turned around at the sound of his voice. "My lord, you are out of bed so soon!" she exclaimed, dropping her basket of flowers and running to him.

"I did not think that one was allowed to pick flowers here," Boromir commented, embracing the Rohirric woman.

"I wasn't, but when I mentioned that I was picking them for you, well, what could they say?" she said; Norah was definitely glad that she and Boromir had crossed paths again.

"Well, Norah, I never was one for flowers…" Boromir stated; "But it is your thought that counts."

"My lord," she said. "Has lord Denethor seemed to be acting a little strange to you?"

Boromir figured out what she was trying to say; "Norah, my father can be quite superstitious, which causes him to say things that he doesn't mean."

Norah did not completely understand what Boromir meant when he talked about Denethor being superstitious.

Boromir could tell by the look on her face. "I know that you do not completely understand what I am talking about, but I am not about to make things uncomfortable between us, so let us just leave it at that."

"I…I don't think lord Denethor likes us spending—time together," she said, looking up at him.

"Father cannot control everything; I enjoy your company, if you do not want to spend time with me then so be it, but do not let it be because my father or anyone else influenced you."

And so Norah did not go, instead, she and Boromir took a wonderful walk around the beautiful gardens that surrounded the houses of healing


	30. Norah's confession

_**A/N: **Thanks for all of the reviews! I'm really happy with the feedback that I've gotten off of this fic. ; )_

**_Reviews:_**

_**-The Elvish Pirate And The Hobbit Ninja: **Thanks for reviewing! Don't we all hate Bashgash... : )_

_**-windstar: **Thanks for the review: )_

_**-Lothiriel: **Glad you liked the Eowyn/Leggie thing, hey maybe you might get your wish about Faramir killing Bashgash...who knows? Thanks for the review: )_

**Uncertain Fates**

Eowyn and Legolas rode side by side as their horses galloped towards the Elven land of Rivendell. She wished that Theodred could have stayed in Mirkwood long enough to come to Rivendell, but he had to return to Rohan, due to King Théoden's waning health.

Legolas had come to Rivendell to speak with Aragorn about someone who was on the loose at least that was all that he had told Eowyn; but yet it was enough for her to beg him to take her with him. Besides, she had never been to Rivendell, and he thought that she would love it.

Eowyn had many reasons for wanting to go, and meeting Arwen was one of them, and she was also overjoyed that she would see Aragorn again.

She had not seen him since the incident in which she had slammed the door in his face after he had come to say goodbye. She hoped that things would still be normal between them.

0-0

When they arrived in Rivendell, Elrond and Aragorn were expecting them; their horses were taken to the stables, and they joined the Elven-king and Aragorn.

When Eowyn first saw Aragorn again, she averted his gaze for she felt a sudden shame for the way that she had acted during their last meeting, and since the look on his face was unreadable, she automatically figured that he had neither forgotten nor forgiven her.

Nevertheless, she regained her composure, and greeted him and Elrond formally; she then quickly excused herself and left them to talk.

An Elven servant showed her to her beautiful chambers, and there she remained until Legolas came to find her.

"Are you alright, Eowyn?" he asked, once she had let him in.

"Yes, I'm alright," she answered. "You need not worry about me."

"You seemed to be acting a little…strange around Aragorn—maybe it was just me."

Eowyn got up and walked to the window. "Perhaps."

"If something is wrong, you can feel free to talk to me anytime," said a concerned Legolas.

"Thank you, Legolas."

"Perhaps you would like to take a walk in the gardens; I know that that would surely make you feel better," suggested the elf.

"Thank you, I think I will; are you going to join me?" she asked, turning away from the window.

"As much as I would love to, I can't; the twins and I are going on a short hunting trip."

Legolas had told her of Elladan and Elrohir, and that he knew them well, so it was no surprise to her that they were going to have a lot of catching up to do.

"Well, I hope you enjoy it," she said, smiling and hugging her Elven friend.

Once he had left, she set out for the gardens, they were beautiful, and it was impossible to decide which ones were better: the gardens of Mirkwood, or the gardens of Rivendell.

Suddenly, she heard voices, she continued walking, but when she realized that the words were becoming clearer, she was going to turn around and leave—but it was too late; to her right was Aragorn and a beautiful dark haired Elven woman.

"It is rightfully yours by birth; I know in my heart that you will not do as he did. It is yours—your people need you."

Eowyn didn't understand what she had just heard. But as she turned to leave, they spotted her.

"I…I'm sorry; I did not mean to interrupt—" stuttered Eowyn.

"It's alright," Aragorn replied. "Arwen, this is lady Eowyn."

Eowyn stood stiff as stone. "It is nice to meet you lady Arwen, I have heard many things about you," she said.

"I have heard many things about you also, lady Eowyn; it is wonderful to finally meet you in person."

There was a terrible silence, in which Eowyn soon broke; "Well it was wonderful to finally meet you, lady Arwen; I did not mean to interrupt anything."

"No, I must be going," said Arwen, who, with one last look at Aragorn, walked away.

"I really should be going," said Eowyn, but Aragorn gently took her by her right arm.

"Eowyn, you seem to be avoiding me—is something wrong?" he asked as his eyes bored into hers.

"No—of course there isn't, and I am sorry if it seemed like I was avoiding you; Legolas came to talk with you about something very important, and I thought that you would want your privacy."

"Our meeting is long over; perhaps we could take a walk through the rest of the gardens—but if you are busy—"

"I am not busy," Eowyn said. "So I accept your proposal," she smiled after she said those four words, and so they walked to their hearts content, through the beautiful gardens of Rivendell.

That had all happened four months ago; Eowyn had now been in Mirkwood for about eight months; she remembered later meeting with Arwen again under better circumstances, and saying a proper goodbye to Aragorn, who had stayed true to his promise, for he had just left again for Rivendell yester eve.

Eowyn was thinking on this as she and Arial walked through the forest which had provided them with protection from their past.

Arial had a lot to be grateful for also; his brother was now completely better, and they were both engaged to Elven women: Arial to Avalyn, and Aranel to Hyacinth.

"I cannot imagine what would have happened if I had decided to ignore my dreams and stay in Minas Tirith…" Arial cut himself off; it was too sad to think about.

"I am glad that I came with you—as much as I would love to see my loved ones, and return to Rohan, I would gladly accept Mirkwood as my final dwelling place, and not only--" she cut herself off when she realized that Arial was not listening to her.

Arial seemed to be listening to something else—he suddenly looked troubled.

"What is it, Arial?" Eowyn asked, for she knew that it couldn't be good.

"Gondorians!" he hissed; "They are near."

Eowyn's eyes widened; she thought that they had given up the search for them long ago. How did they find them?

"We must try to run back to safety; it is our only hope, for they are approaching," he whispered.

Eowyn was surprised that he had kept his composure; despite the fact that they were facing recapture…well at least they saw it as recapture.

And so without further hesitation, they ran as fast as their legs could carry them. The Gondorians were easily alerted to their presence, and began to chase after them.

It seemed as though Arial and Eowyn were going to be able to return to Thranduil's palace safely, until and arrow whizzed by Eowyn, just missing her head, but she was not the target: Arial was. The arrow pierced him in his shoulder; he tripped over a large rock, and fell into the river below.

Eowyn screamed as she saw him fall helplessly into the river. She ran to the edge, but could do nothing as the water carried him away. As she prepared to jump, strong arms grabbed her and forced her away from the now bloody river. She fought with all of her strength, but to no avail; Eowyn, lady of Rohan had been recaptured.

000

While Eowyn had been eluding the soldiers of Gondor for eight months, Boromir and Norah and gotten closer, much to Denethor's displeasure.

The more she got to know him, the more it angered her to know that Eowyn had run away from what could have been a wonderful life. Eomer had had to leave two months ago, but before he left, he had said these words to her:

"_I have seen you and him, and now I know why you're so angry that Eowyn has run away; you will only have your heart broken, for he is a married man—he does not love you in that sense, for your own good I am telling you to return to Rohan with me so that you can love and marry a man under the right circumstances."_

Of course she had refused, although she knew that it was the right thing to do.

Denethor made sure that he kept her away from his son at all costs; there were even rumors amongst the servants that he intended to send her away.

Meanwhile, Boromir and Denethor's relationship had all but broken; for Faramir should have been back in Minas Tirith by then, and the only explanation was that he had been captured, but Denethor would do nothing about it, and he still had not told his son of the accusations of desertion—even though he was still sending soldiers to find Faramir and bring him back so that 'justice' could be served upon him.

Now, to the present day, Boromir had just reentered Minas Tirith, for he and his men had been fighting the orcs in Osgiliath; Denethor had been the first to meet him, but Boromir hadn't even wanted to speak to the steward, for he was angry that nothing was being done about his missing brother. He did not tell Denethor, but he secretly intended to set out and find him, along with some of his fellow soldiers. He did intend to tell Denethor, but only at the last minute.

After he had left the Steward, he stood outside and looked out across the Pelennor; he now did that almost every day, for he seemed to be expecting her to return; 'her' as in, his wife, Eowyn.

"I had not expected you to be back so soon, my lord!" exclaimed a voice from behind.

The muddy soldier turned around. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you, Norah!" said Boromir, getting ready to embrace her, but soon remembered that he was dirty with mud and orc blood, so he would have to do without one.

"How was Osgiliath?" the maiden asked.

"We have made great progress; we have been able to drive the enemy back."

"That is good," Norah said quietly. Ever since Eomer had last spoken to her, she had been having mind battles, and had made her decision just recently; she had not expected Boromir to return so soon, so she had planned to leave for Rohan before he returned, and she knew that it would be easy, seeing that Denethor would not try to stop her. She intended to leave that night.

000

But over in the dark land, there was no escape; Faramir worked four it seemed twenty three hours a day, although he still didn't know when a day passed in Mordor, for the sky never changed, it always remained dark.

Earlier, the remaining scouting elves had returned, and had not been able to find them. Selwyn was furious, for he had never thought that Morwen had it in her to run away from the only family that she had left.

Now to the present day, Faramir had remained patient, waiting, and hoping for his time of escape to come; but was he waiting in vain?

"Get a move on!" shouted Bashgash, who was their self-appointed task master.

Faramir was not the only human slave, he was often with other men and women, but they had no time to exchange stories or get to know each other.

Faramir's main task as a slave was to make weapons for the enemy; he had now forged too many swords to count.

As he just set down a newly-made sword, he saw someone who he never thought he would see again: Selwyn. The elf walked over to Bashgash, and they were soon engaged in a conversation. Faramir was not far from them, so he was able to hear bits and pieces of the conversation.

"When do you set out?" Selwyn asked.

"Tomorrow; they need aid, if we wait any longer, than Osgiliath will be taken. We will take the slave boy, you say that he was a Ranger, we will use him against them."

Selwyn's eyes darted to Faramir, who met his gaze immediately.

"So be it; if he can be of aid to you, then by all means take him. But he must be returned alive; he should not die—not yet."

The suddenly looked at Selwyn; "We could use your aid too."

"That I will have to think on," said Selwyn, walking away.

Faramir was suddenly stricken with an idea: he could escape when he was going to Osgiliath with the orcs.

Suddenly, he was punched in the nose. He looked up to see Bashgash the cruel looking at him evilly. "Get back to work!" he grunted, kicking him to the ground, and then kicking mud in his face.

"I won't have you lazing around!"

000

That night, Norah had to cancel her plans to escape, for she and Boromir were walking in the small garden on the seventh level.

They had talked for a long while, and time had just seemed to fly by, they were now talking of lady Eowyn.

"Now, I do not know if she will ever be found," said Boromir with a sigh.

"I still do not think that she should have run away, for she does not know what she is missing."

Boromir smiled faintly; "I just hope that she is safe."

"But she would not be in this predicament if she would have stayed and tried; she does not know you like I do, for if she did then…then she would not have run away. For I know you, and…and, I…"

Boromir arched an eyebrow; he had not expected her to get so passionate about it, but after she had allowed her voice to trail off, he was curious about what she was going to say.

"What is it, Norah?"

"I…I love you."


	31. Rejected

_**A/N: **Thanks for being so patient, guys! Well heres the new chappy...enjoy ; )_

**_Reviews:_**

_**-The Elvish Pirate And The Hobbit Ninja: **Ha! Bashgash must be really annoying! Thanks for reading and reviewing: - D_

_**-windstar: **Thanks for reviewing, I'm glad you like the last chappy: - )_

**Uncertain Fates**

As Avalyn and Hyacinth walked by the long stream, they talked about their fiancées, even laughing when they recalled previous incidents.

It was a beautiful day in the forest; the gently breeze and the soft sound of the stream, were very relaxing. But not for long—suddenly, Avalyn began to notice that the water was reddening.

"Hyacinth," she said, anxiously grabbing her friends arm. "Something is wrong!"

Hyacinth looked at the water and screamed; the body of an elf had just washed up onto the ground. He was Arial

000

"What?" Boromir asked, almost in a whisper; his face was blank and unreadable.

Norah instantly regretted what she had just said, "No my lord, not in _that _sense; I simply mean that I love you as a person. I am not _in_ love with you," she said.

Boromir laughed uncomfortably. "Of course; I knew that."

There was a dreadful silence between the two, which made Norah want to shrink away; she had confessed her deepest feelings to the soldier of Gondor, only to have Eomer's words come to pass. She now knew more than ever, that she would have to find a way to run away—but that would prove difficult, considering that Boromir was there and would not be leaving again for a while.

"Well, my lord; I had a wonderful time talking to you, but I must go now," she said, breaking the silence, and standing up to leave.

Boromir did not stop her from departing, in fact, _he_ felt embarrassed for thinking that she had such feelings for him. But he soon forgot the matter and returned to his chambers to get a much needed sleep.

000

In Mordor, it was impossible to tell day from night; Faramir was lying by himself in a rickety tent; he had not been able to sleep. He was excited that he was finally going to get the chance to escape from the miserable life which he had been forced to live for eight long months.

Sure, eight months did not sound long at all, but in Mordor, just to breathe is an effort; the smell of death was in the air everyday, and not a day went by without Bashgash enforcing some new kind of punishment. Faramir knew that well, for he had been beaten on many occasions in Mordor; and he had gotten beaten even worse after he had successfully killed an orc that was trying to beat him.

He now fully understood what Galen meant when he said that Selwyn brought him to Mordor to try to bring him under subjection. Galen, the half-Elven was very strong indeed.

But as Faramir thought of escaping, he also though about the men and women who still had no chance of leaving Mordor; Faramir knew how privileged he was to get the chance, and he hoped that he would get the chance to free them all one day.

Faramir had also been able to secure a dagger; it was not much but he had a feeling that he would need a weapon of some sort, if he was to escape alive.

000

Eowyn had been forcefully taken from the spot where Arial had fallen; but by the looks of things, they would have to sleep in Mirkwood that night.

That was Eowyn's last chance to claim her freedom, and she intended to seize that chance for she would rather die free than live a long life trapped inside a cage; besides, she had an advantage, for she knew the forest better than they.

But she also knew that she could not just try to escape at any time; she would have to wait until they let down their guard. She would do whatever it took to be a free woman again.

0-0

But her chance never came; the soldiers walked strategically: they walked in a way that formed a circle—with Eowyn in the middle!

And much to her surprise, they also walked all night, which was no hard task for them, seeing that they were soldiers; and soldiers usually had to march or fight despite the harsh situations.

They gave her no eye contact, they just walked along with expressionless faces; but Eowyn soon began to get tired, and her feet began to hurt, for such long walking was hard on a woman; suddenly, everything seemed as though it was swirling, and then all went black…

000

That dark morning, Faramir awakened to the sound of Selwyn's voice. He opened his eyes and saw the Shadow elf standing over him, and staring down at him.

"You are finally awake," he commented cheekily.

He was one of the last people that Faramir wanted to see at that moment. "What do you want?" he asked, ignoring Selwyn's remark.

"It is time for us to set out for Osgiliath," said Selwyn, looking at Faramir as though he was inferior.

"If you think that I will fight my brothers, you are mistaken," Faramir said, standing up and looking at the elf with fury in his eyes.

"You will do as I say," Selwyn said; he sounded so sure of himself.

"You sound quite sure of yourself; despite the fact that you failed to locate your sister who was merely a few miles away from you," Faramir shot back. He was known to have a cutting tongue at times.

And it seemed that his words had pierced the arrogant mans heart of stone; Selwyn just stood there for a moment, and said nothing; then all of a sudden, he returned back to reality and punched the ranger in his face. Faramir stumbled back a bit, due to the force of the blow; when he put his had to his nose, he felt blood; he thought that Selwyn would storm out, and leave him 'to think on his ways' but he was wrong: Selwyn was not finished yet.

He stormed up to Faramir, drawing his slender Elven blade and pressing it against Faramir's neck.

Faramir didn't even dare to swallow; it almost felt as though the blade was already cutting into his skin.

"You know where she is, don't you?" Selwyn asked angrily.

"Get away from me," Faramir said, sounding bolder than he felt; he now regretted saying what he had said, for he was blinded by his anger.

"Answer me!" shouted the angry elf.

"No, I do not know where they are; but how far could they have gone in those few moments?"

Selwyn roughly withdrew his blade. "If you are lying to me, then you are just asking for death….'Captain'." after adding that hint of sarcasm, he left. Faramir followed him soon after.

0-0

The orcs and elves, along with some soldiers of Harad (for Selwyn has persuaded Sherah to come with them), had journeyed as far as Ithilien, when they decided to rest for the night; Faramir could not have been happier, for he was an Ithilien Ranger, which meant that he knew Ithilien better than them.

Once they had set up the temporary tents, Faramir lay awake in his, waiting for the right moment to sneak out of the camp.

But his waiting was soon interrupted when a young soldier of Harad entered his tent.

"Sherah requests to see you immediately," said the young man.

Faramir, curious to know what the man of Harad wanted, got up and followed the young man.

When they reached Sherah's tent; the young man left them to talk privately.

"I apologize for disturbing your sleep, if you were sleeping at all," he said arrogantly.

"What is it that you want?" Faramir asked.

"I wanted you to know that I am on to you."

Faramir looked at him blankly, although he was screaming inside. "I do not know what you're talking about."

Sherah threw back his head and laughed; "Of course you do; I saw you take that dagger, I know you thought that no one saw—but I did. This little attempt of yours will not succeed; I have not said anything to Selwyn…yet; but I will tonight. I do not think that you'll survive the night."

Faramir maintained his composure. "I do not know where you get your theories, but they are wrong."

"Oh, they are? I do not think so, and neither will Selwyn—I think that I'll take that dagger now."

Faramir's jaw clenched; he was caught, and there was no getting out of it—or was there?

He suddenly had a plan…a plan that at one time he would never have done, but desperate times call for desperate measures…

Quicker than an elf, Faramir drew his knife and stabbed Sherah in his left shoulder; he barely gave the soldier a chance to react before he went at him again; although he knew that he had to kill Sherah, he wanted to end it in as painless a way as possible, but Sherah didn't give up that easily; he struggled with Faramir, and punched him despite the pain which he was feeling, but he could not hold up for long, as the world around him began to fade into darkness…


	32. On the run

_**A/N: **Hey guys, I hope that you all enjoy this chappy; I know that It's short, and I'm sorry; but I assure ya'll that they'll get nice and long again. Anways, thanks for all of the reviews! _

**_Reviews:_**

_**-The Elvish Pirate And The Hobbit Ninja: **Yes, Faramir rules! Thanks for the review: )_

_**-windstar:** Oh, how we all want him to... Thanks for taking the time to review. : - )_

_**-xiaoweisan: **Thanks for reviewing! Yeah, it is unfair that Faramir should always be the one to suffer. ; )_

_**-lalalalalala: **Wow, thanks; it sounds like you went through a lot of trouble to find this fic, thanks for reading and reviewing: - D_

_**-classacte: **Thanks for the review, I'm glad you like the fic! _

**_Thanks guys! These are the most reviews I've gotten on one chappy since my oneshot 'Safe With Me' so thanks!_**

**Uncertain Fates**

During the time which Faramir had been marching with the orcs, Haradrim, and Shadow elves, lady Eowyn had been unconscious.

When she finally opened her eyes, she found herself staring at a starry sky. Now aware and awake, Eowyn sat up and looked around; for a moment she actually thought that everything had all just been a bad dream…but that was not true, for she saw a camp fire, and Gondorian soldiers were gathered around it.

Eowyn's head hurt her terribly, so terribly that she currently did not have the strength to stand up on her feet.

"_Where am I?"_ she wondered to herself; for she could see trees in the distance, but could clearly tell that they were no longer in Mirkwood.

She almost burst into tears as she rehashed all that she could remember: her friend Arial had been fatally wounded possibly killed by a Gondorian arrow; and she had been dragged away and was now bound for Minas Tirith: The very place that she ran away from.

000

Avalyn had sent Hyacinth to go for help, and the Elven woman soon returned with Legolas, Aranel, and three healers; when they checked his pulse, and found that it was still there, though faint, it gave them all some kind of joy that he would make it through.

000

Faramir dropped the dagger, and stared at the man as he breathed his last breaths; when his eyes fell on the gaping hole in Sherah's neck, he knew that the man would not survive. Faramir had know time to delay, he had to make his way out of the tent unnoticed, for it was only a matter of time until someone entered and found him.

There was no time to try to remove Sherah's blood from his clothes, for that was almost impossible. His tunic was stained with his blood; Faramir grabbed Sherah's sword, and darted out of the tent like a shadow.

Faramir had not though of a destination until now—now that he was practically running for his life. He knew that it would be too long a shot to run all the way to Minas Tirith.

After a little bit of thinking, he finally decided that he would go to Cair Andros; besides, he could reunite with Tatiana, and that would be worth more than what he could imagine at that time.

He had decided not to take a horse, for he feared that it would draw attention, and though he had the disadvantage of going on foot, he would have the advantage of a head start; and since he was an Ithilien Ranger, he knew that he would be able to find a nook or cranny to sleep.

But right now, sleep was the least of his worries; he wanted to get as big a head start as possible, and so he knew that he would be running for a long, long while.

0-0

That had happened three hours ago, and he had gotten a huge head start indeed.

And he had chosen the right night to escape, for the camp was very busy, so no one had the time to keep up with "the slave" and so everything continued as normal until Selwyn remembered that he had to go and see Sherah, for they had promised to meet up that night to talk about their strategy.

He though it strange that Sherah had not come to him first, for he was the one who seemed so eager to talk about their strategy.

As Selwyn approached the tent, he got a sudden cold chill; he could faintly smell blood.

He quickly entered, and saw the soldier of Harad lying on the ground in his own blood; Selwyn remained calm; he called some of his fellow elves and also Haradrim, and went over to Sherah. He checked Sherah's pulse on his cold wrist, and found none.

Yes, he and Sherah had their bickering sessions, but all in all, they were alike in a lot of ways.

Selwyn lifted up Sherah's head, and closed his half open eyes.

"Do any of you know who the last one in here to see him was?" Selwyn asked sharply.

All of them shook their heads—all but one; he stepped forward from the rest.

"I am Mordecai, Sherah's adjutant; I was sent by him to bring a man by the name of Faramir here. He is the last man that I saw enter."

Selwyn observed the dead man; there was obviously a sign of struggle. "I want you all to go and find him—he cannot be far."

They stood still for a moment, waiting to see if he was going to say something else.

"Go!" Selwyn shouted; for he hated having to repeat things.

When they left, he looked upon the dead man once more, hoping that they would not return with just their long hands…hoping that Sherah's death would be avenged. But he would have to think about revenge some other time, because Bashgash the cruel entered, and when he saw the body of the fallen, he showed no emotion.

"We cannot wait around for you to catch the villain; we must go and aid my fellow soldiers in Osgiliath!"

"_Can you not show a morsel of respect for the dead?" _Selwyn wanted to say, but instead, he let his tougher side come out. "Of course we will not just simply 'wait around' we will set out first thing tomorrow morning as we had originally planned; and it should not be so hard to catch the murderer, consider that we know who he is."

"Let me guess…it is the slave boy—I am assuming that you underestimated him," the orc sneered.

"Be hush, foul thing!" Selwyn ordered out of anger.

But Bashgash was terribly offended, he drew his sword and pointed it to Selwyn's neck; "You might not want to say that again, elf boy, for next time I will not be so tolerant," and with that being said, he stormed out of the tent.

0-0

Faramir ran on despite the terrible fatigue; he knew that there was a big chance of recapture, but that was a risk that he had to take. When he thought of seeing Tatiana again, it seemed to give him the extra boost he needed to persevere.

He knew that The Shadow Elves were most likely already hot on his trail, that was why he had not been able to find a place to rest; he wanted to gain as big a distance as was possible, but he knew that he would eventually have to find a resting place—and food—and water, for if he didn't, chances were that he would collapse, for it had been a while since he had been fed, and even then it was dried, stale crust, and water with unidentified things in it.

He could hear his own heart beating as he continued to run, he had never wished that he was a wood elf more than he did then; but there was no use in wishing that he was someone else, for he knew that for him to get to his destination, he would have to focus more on where he was going, rather than what was behind him.

He could not hear any voices behind him. That was a comfort. But he didn't know how much longer he could run on, he kept on trying to tell himself that he was running for his life, but it only added to the fear.

The fear of getting caught and never seeing his loved ones again; oh how he longed to return to the white city of Gondor; there was no one in that city whom he missed more than his brother. Yes, he did in fact miss him more than his own father. It hurt him to think of it, but he knew that Denethor didn't even care where he was…he only hoped that Marcus and his fellow soldiers were not dead, and were able to return to Gondor so that they could tell Denethor that he was innocent; for they had proof: Marcus had seen him in captivity with his own eyes.

That would be too much evidence, and all Gelmir had was his word…his untruthful word; surely Denethor wouldn't continue to believe the worst…would he?

As he ran, he failed to notice that ten shadows were behind; they were not close by, but they were able to see him.

Faramir thought that he was alone, so he slowed his running to more of a brisk walk, to conserve what energy he had left—little did he know that he should have continued running!

00-0

The men of Harad and the Shadow Elves watched Faramir from a distance; they had caught up with him by journeying on horseback. They had pushed the poor creatures to their utmost limit.

The horses had all but died of exhaustion, so they sprinted on foot. Seeing that they were well rested, and had had the luxury of riding on horseback half the way, they caught up with him considerably fast.


	33. In the rain

_**A/N: **Thanks for reviewing guys! I'm sorry, but I can't really respond today 'cause I updated pretty late, but I hope that you all enjoy this chapter. : )_

**Uncertain Fates**

One of the Shadow Elves poised his bow and arrow, ready to shoot Faramir—possibly dead; but Faelivrin stopped him.

"No, we will not aim to kill; I am sure that that is not what Selwyn wants."

"What difference does it make?" the elf argued. "He will die anyway!"

"That is not our decision to make; we will let Selwyn deal with him. I am sure that he will be punished severely."

The elf finally nodded in agreement,

"Then what do you suggest that we do?" asked Mordecai, who wanted nothing more than to spit upon Faramir's 'dead' body.

"We will trap him," Faelivrin explained. "With our daggers."

Mordecai smiled; he liked the sound of that idea.

0-0

Faramir was out of breath and so he stopped to rest for a few minutes; he knew that he couldn't rest long for he was certain that his pursuers were still searching for him.

He hoped that he would elude them to the point where they would have no choice but to turn back and forget about him; but even though he thought so, he still did not know for sure whether they had found Sherah's body or not.

He hoped that they hadn't found him yet, for if that was the case then he would undoubtedly escape.

Just then, something sharp whizzed right past him, just missing his right arm; Faramir stood up, and nervously looked to see where the object came from; but because it was so dark, he could barely see anything, let alone a shadow.

Suddenly, something shiny caught his eye; it appeared to be stuck in a nearby tree. Faramir did not want to linger, but yet he was curious to see what the shiny object was. When he reached the tree, he saw that it was a dagger; a little more than half of the blade was stuck in the tree.

Although he was in a desperate run for his life, Faramir couldn't help noticing how well carved the hilt was; it had some unknown elvish symbols on them, which he of course did not understand, but that did not make it any less beautiful.

Faramir resolved to take the dagger, for he figured that it could be of help to him; even though he couldn't help being fearful, considering the fact that the dagger was aimed at him, and the elvish symbols gave him the idea that they _had_ indeed found Sherah's body, and that he was in fact being hunted down by the Shadow Elves, and Lord knows what else.

Once Faramir had taken the Elven dagger, he mustered up all of his remaining energy and broke into a run; he didn't know how much longer he would be able to go at that speed, but he hoped to put some distance between himself and his pursuers.

0-0

Faelivrin emerged from the bush which he and the others had been hiding, and with a gesture of his hand, beckoned them to follow him.

They moved swiftly, like ghosts in the night. They were very careful and made sure that they did not do anything to alert Faramir to their presence.

Suddenly, Faelivrin drew another dagger which had been attached to his belt, aiming perfectly, he flung the deadly weapon straight a Faramir's left arm.

He had waited for Faramir to near a tree so that he could have something to pin him too.

They were close enough to hear the Rangers' sudden yelp of pain as the dagger pinned him—and some of his arm to a tree.

Despite the pain he was feeling, Faramir managed to collect his thoughts: to him it was not over yet, but he knew that he had to remove the dagger before his captors arrived, or it would very well be over.

He was right-handed anyway, so that mad it easier to try to remove it. He was glad that it had not pierced his sword arm, for if it had then he would have a sorry chance of defending himself.

Despite how hard he tried, he found removing it impossible, and he began to get more and more anxious as he heard his captors closing in on him.

"It works every time," Faelivrin boasted to the others.

As Mordecai looked upon the man who had murdered his master, he began to seethe with anger.

He reached Faramir before the others, and he roughly yanked out the dagger, causing Faramir to cry out once again.

"You filthy scum; you will pay for what you have done!" Mordecai spat.

When the others reached Faramir, they grabbed him roughly by the arms, and despite Faramir's attempts to free himself, dragged him all the way back to the camp.

0-0

When they finally returned to the camp; Faramir's face had been badly scratched, for he had been dragged over the sharp rocks and stones, for they acted as though they were merely dragging a dead animal.

Faramir now was too weak to stand; and he dreaded what was going to happen next. The Elven-men that had dragged him all the way back to the camp dropped him down in front of someone.

Faramir could barely raise his head, but he somehow managed to do it; when he did, he found himself staring into the fiery eyes of none other than Selwyn.

Selwyn did not even bend his head down to look at Faramir, his eyes just looked downward. Faramir could see the fury in the elf's eyes, and he knew that his punishment would undoubtedly be severe.

"So you act your part as a slave, but you wait for the opportune moment to escape, and when your 'time' comes, you kill Sherah, take his weapon, and attempt to run to…I don't know where; you have to be the most foolish human that I have encountered in all of my two thousand years."

Faramir could hear the mounting rage in his voice, and winced as Selwyn gave him a painfully hard kick in the ribs.

"You have only made things worse for yourself, Gondorian," he spat.

"I did what I had to," Faramir returned, defending himself.

"We shall see about that," he said sharply; and with a gesture to the elves and soldiers of Harad standing by, he said: "Give him his fair punishment, as is due for all escapees."

And after that being said, he walked off, leaving Faramir to be punished.

0-0

An hour later, a bloody Faramir was dragged back to the camp; his head hung limp and he showed no sign of movement, the only thing that he did was leave a trail of blood behind him.

This time, the elves didn't even put him in a ten. Instead, they just dropped him on the ground and let him lay there until Selwyn saw it fit to have him moved elsewhere.

And also another thing that Faramir would not get would be the outstanding medical attention which Tatiana and Morwen so genuinely gave, instead he was alone; everyone in the camp hated and despised him—even those who did not particularly like Sherah.

They just hated Faramir because he was Faramir, Captain of the Ithilien Rangers, second son of Denethor, the Steward of Gondor.

Now as Denethor slept in the comfort of his somewhat kingly bed, his son was out in the cold. The thought of his son being left out in the cold never came to Denethor's mind; in fact, that night he had no worries.

The last thing that had been on his mind that night was the annual dinner which was to take place in but a few days; the brother of his late wife, Finduilas would be there along with some others.

In other words, he never once thought of his son that night before he went to bed, for he did not want to think on such things.

0-0

Back in Ithilien, the rain began to fall; the Elves, orcs, and the men of Harad, took shelter in their tents but Faramir lay where they had left him: a limp form drenched with rain and blood.

Selwyn was robbed of his sleep; he was thinking about how Sherah would no longer be with them. Faramir had not only robbed him of Sherah, but he had also robbed a sister of her brother.

Needless to say that Selwyn didn't think about how many families he had torn apart by one swift blow of his Elven sword—he had closed that door of emotion long ago, for he was the heir of the Shadow Elves. When his father died, the responsibility had been placed upon him and a reluctant Morwen, and there was no escaping it…at least he saw no escaping it.

He had come to accept this as his life; he no longer thought about what his life would have been like if his father had not founded the Shadow Elves, for he thought that it was too late for that, and it was only right that he fulfill his duty and honor his father.

But Morwen was not like that. She had never been like that. She had opposed or attempted to oppose just about everything he did; no one could anger him like her, but yet he would rather die than raise his hand against her, for not only did he love her; her face resembled that of someone much dearer to his heart, yet he had not known her long enough: His mother.

He had a locket which she had given him; in it contained a lock of her hair and a picture of her, so that he could remember her always.

He has always worn the locket ever since that day; but it was very hard to see, considering that he had most of it tucked inside his tunic.

In many ways, his personality resembled that of his father, after whom he had been named: proud, arrogant, and relentless.

He remembered his father's story of how he came to serve Sauron; for before Selwyn I died, he had told the story to him and Morwen as often as he could manage.

Although it was known, it was never voiced out; Selwyn was his father's favorite child, he loved Morwen too, but saw her of lesser worth. He knew that his son could grow up and be just like him—even do as he did…

Selwyn closed his eyes as he remembered the final goodbye that he had said to his mother, before he was forcefully taken away by the Shadow Elves: Destined to become one of them.

Since then, his conscience had just about been seared with a hot iron when it came to outsiders—especially Gondorians, so he felt no sympathy for Faramir.

In fact, he had walked by the Ranger, as he lay bleeding in the rain, but all that he had done was ordered an elf to stand guard and occasionally check his pulse; if it was weak to the point of life and death, only _then_ could he receive medical attention, but even then nothing special, just basic herbs to keep him alive.


	34. The setback

_**A/N: **Hey guys, I updated this a little later than I liked, but at least I was able to update--right?_

**_Reviews:_**

_**-windstar: **Yes, poor Faramir; thanks for reviewing ; )_

_**-The Elvish Pirate And The Hobbit Ninja: **I think that Selwyn has someone to fear...you go girl!_

_**-MAEday: **I'm glad that you like the story! Cute penName BTW : D_

_**-Rana Ninque: **I'm glad that you decided to read it--despite the B/E thingy, and to tell the truth, even though I'm tpying a B/E, E/F is my fav. And I don't mean to give away any spoilers or anything, but both of your questions concerning Jaylyn and the dagger will be answered in this chappy! thanks for reading and reviewing!_

**Uncertain Fates**

Selwyn was lying down, but not sleeping, when he saw a shadow lingering outside of his tent.

The elf sat up and once he lifted the tent flap, he found himself face to face with Faelivrin.

"Why are you disturbing me at this hour?" Selwyn asked sharply.

"Two things," replied the Shadow elf.

"Go ahead; I am listening."

"Bashgash wants to set out immediately, for he fears that his men will not be able to fight when the sun comes up."

Selwyn had meant to ask the orc about that, so it came as a minimal surprise to him; he just nodded. "And the second thing?"

"What should we do with the Gondorian? His very presence is angering many—especially Mordecai, who wants nothing more than his _permanent_ demise."

Selwyn sighed; "Leave him there until we are all ready to set out for Osgiliath; but do not let Mordecai get the chance to strike that fatal blow. Understood?"

"Understood."

"Good, now assemble the others; I shall join you shortly."

0-0

Faramir's eyes opened; he was cold and wet.

He didn't even dare to try to sit up, for he was not sure how much strength he currently had; then suddenly, his mind drifted back to the dagger which he had taken; he knew that it was just wishful thinking, but he hoped that it was still there.

His shaky hand traced the Elven belt in search of the dagger; and to his luck, he found it! He clutched the hilt for he saw it as his only hope of escaping; he was shocked that the elves hadn't seen it, but he was very grateful.

000

Eowyn stared hopelessly at the black sky, hoping yet dreading for daylight to come; hoping, because she would be able to see her surroundings better, providing hope for an escape.

Dreading, because she did not know what daylight would bring; for if she could not find a way to escape, she would be brought closer and closer to Gondor, where she would have to face her husband—her very angry husband.

They had resumed their journey, for the soldiers did not want to delay; Eowyn had been able to rest a little, so she did not feel so fatigued, but it was not the physical pain that she cared about, it was the very thought of having to return to that cage, and never getting the chance to escape again; for she was sure that Denethor and Boromir would do everything in their power so that she wouldn't get that opportunity again.

She now wished that she had stayed in Rivendell with Aragorn, for then she would not have had to worry about getting recaptured; after all, Aragorn had offered her to come, and he told her that she was well liked there and would enjoy it very much, but she had refused, insisting that Mirkwood was her home and despite how wonderful Rivendell was, "I just cannot bring myself to say goodbye to this wood."

According to Eowyn, that was one of the most foolish mistakes that she had made.

000

Almost everyone had assembled now, and Faramir had fallen into a light sleep; but he soon awakened when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind; he held his breath—and his dagger, and hoped that the unidentified person would just pass by.

But it was not so.

The person walked up to Faramir, and turned his over. Faramir figured that it would be safer if he just pretended to still be unconscious.

"Now, let's see what you're really hiding," said the sneaky elf, which Faramir now recognized as Jaylyn.

Faramir immediately felt a cold chill run up his spine.

What was Jaylyn talking about?

He did not have to ponder on that for too long, for Jaylyn saw something in Faramir's hand—the thing that he was looking for.

He attempted to take the dagger, for he thought that Faramir was still unconscious; but when Faramir realized what was happening, he knew that he couldn't just let his only hope of escaping slip away. He opened his eyes and despite his weak condition, began to struggle with Jaylyn for the Elven blade.

Jaylyn elbowed Faramir in the face, but the Ranger was relentless; he continued to hold on to the blade.

But Jaylyn continued to hit him again and again and again, until the pain became so bad that Faramir could not hold on any longer. Jaylyn saw this and with all his might, flung Faramir into the moist soil; Jaylyn, in truth wished that it had been a cliff.

Faramir was glad that he hadn't been flung onto a harder surface, but he also knew that if someone didn't come soon, Jaylyn would probably try to kill him.

He wiped some of the dark blood off of his face as he stared at his approaching enemy; Jaylyn held the dagger in a stabbing position. Faramir knew that he was out for blood—his blood.

"I have waited for this moment for too long; my only regret is that Tatiana could not be here to see this, but the two of us will just have to do—I am going to grind your bones into the dust," he sneered.

"You will do no such thing," said a voice from behind.

000

Unfortunately for Boromir, his plans for searching for Faramir were delayed, for the next few days would be very busy indeed.

As he strapped on his armor he began to think of how Denethor was seemingly overjoyed that Prince Imrahil, lord Addreoryn, and his son lord Addraran of Lossarnach, lord Sadarmir, father of Laddyn and his other son, Philippe of Lebennin, and last but not least lady Gwendolyn, widow of Cair Andros, and her two twin daughters; Enya and Moriah, were coming in just a few days to Minas Tirith. Denethor also thought it mandatory for Boromir to be present.

So that meant that Boromir could stay no longer than two days in Osgiliath; he wanted to argue with Denethor on this, for he thought that his men there needed hi, for scouts had reportedly seen that reinforcements were on the way—in the form of Haradrim, orcs and…elves?

That was the part that Boromir didn't understand; but as a soldier, sometimes you had to ask questions later, and that was what Boromir thought the situation currently called for.

His thoughts were interrupted when there was an urgent knock on the door. He opened the door and found himself face to face with Norah.

When Norah saw him dressed in armor, she almost choked although she didn't understand why; it was normal for men to go to war, but then there was always that possibility that they would not return.

"What can I do for you, Norah?" Boromir asked casually, stepping aside so that she could go in.

"I cannot stay, my lord," she began. "For I was only sent by lord Denethor to tell you that King Théoden, lord Eomer, and lord Theodred have entered the city," as she spoke, she began to feel much better, considering how embarrassed she had felt due to the little 'I love you' incident.

"Why did father wait until the last minute to tell me this?" Boromir groaned, putting his hand on his forehead. "What good is this news to me?"

"Lord Eomer and Theodred are going to accompany you to Osgiliath," Norah explained.

"So they have come to give us aid, then?" Boromir asked.

"I do not know the entire story, my lord; I am just passing the message on."

"Thank you, Norah; tell father that I shall meet with him shortly."

"Yes, my lord," said the obedient maid before walking off.

When she left, Boromir sighed; the surprises just kept on coming.

000

By now, the soldiers and Eowyn had reached the field of Celebrant, and there was still no hope of escaping. All Eowyn could do was think of how angry Boromir and Denethor would when she returned.

It seemed that she could see their faces looming in the air, shouting at her; she closed her eyes for a moment, but could still hear their voices.

"_How could you run away from your duty? What kind of woman are you to run away from your husband; you are an embarrassment to Rohan!" _she imagined that accusation coming from Denethor.

She was in a rut, a very deep rut, which she feared she would never climb out of.

000

It angered Theodred to see Grima within touching distance of his father; he could tell that it angered Eomer also.

He, Eomer, and about thirty soldiers of Rohan were soon going to set off for Osgiliath to aid the Gondorian soldiers; after all, that was a part of the deal that had been made between Denethor and Théoden—the deal which had sealed Eowyn's fate.


	35. The woman and the mystery

_**A/N: **Well, heres the update. I'm pretty swamped right now, so I can't respond to any reviews today, and sorry for the short chappy, but I hope that you guys enjoy it. : )_

**Uncertain Fates**

His vision was a little bit blurred, but he was certain that that was her—there Tatiana stood, he beautiful brunette hair blowing in the wind; but why was she still dressed in the attire of the Shadow Elves?

Faramir rubbed his eyes to correct his vision, surely he was not mistaken. Jaylyn had turned around to face the woman who was supposedly Tatiana.

"What are you talking about?" he asked sharply.

"It is Selwyn's orders; I just received them from Faelivrin, he said not to harm the prisoner."

Jaylyn threw the dagger in anger, and it seemed that almost instantly, an elf appeared to pick it up.

Faramir stared at the woman in awe; he was certain that she was Tatiana, she looked just like Tatiana, but it seemed that she was accepted in the camp, and he knew that if Tatiana ever did return, chances were that she would not live to see the next day; but he knew that he was not mistaken…she _had_ to be Tatiana.

"Come, Jaylyn," said the woman. "We are just about ready to set out; we could use your help around the camp, and do not worry about the prisoner, I will stay until Faelivrin comes."

Jaylyn shot a furious look at the Gondorian, but he obeyed the Elven-woman nonetheless.

The woman didn't seem to think that she had done anything special, instead she slowly paced back and forth, not taking her eyes off of Faramir.

Faramir stared at her intently; if she was not Tatiana then who was she?

"Who are you?" he finally asked while looking directly at her.

"I do not see what business it is of yours, Gondorian," she said, looking at him with distaste.

Faramir swallowed hard; what was he to do?

000

Boromir and the Rohirrim had already exchanged formal greetings, and now they were on their way to Osgiliath; Boromir, Eomer, and Theodred rode in front, while their loyal soldiers rode behind.

There were not many words exchanged between the three; but for some reason, Eomer and Theodred both had some kind of fear that their scheme to help Eowyn escape would be discovered. But Theodred began to tell himself that there was nothing to fear, seeing that they would never be able to find her in the woodland realm.

Boromir's distant hope was that when he returned, Eowyn would be within the walls of the city again; but he knew that that hope was very distant indeed, for he had a hunch that she was very good at staying hidden.

But all of these thoughts drifted out of their heads, and as they saw the city of Osgiliath, one thought and one thought only remained in their minds: War.

000

By now, the Shadow Elves had set out again, and Faramir had not asked the Elven-woman another question, and he now knew that she was not Tatiana; and the only explanation was that she was Tatiana's twin, although he thought that either he would have seen her, for he had become familiar with just about everyone around the camp, or Tatiana would have told him; all of this was very confusing to him.

0-0

The Elven-woman walked with Selwyn; they had not exchanged a word to each other since her return.

She had been to Harad, and had just joined up with the other Shadow Elves…including Selwyn; she had missed him while she had been away, and he was not the only person to drift into her mind; there was someone else, whose name she currently would not utter.

Selwyn noticed that she looked troubled, and so he stopped, allowing some of the elves to pass them by.

He waited until they had all passed before he spoke with her privately. He gently tilted her chin up so that she was looking directly into his face.

"You cannot know how much you have been missed," he said, staring into the woman's face.

"I believe that I do know, for I longed to be back here—it was not my wish to journey to Harad."

"Neither was it mine," he said.

"That I know," she said, her lips forming into a smile.

"That I am glad you know."

000

The sun still had not yet risen as Eowyn and the soldiers stopped to rest; Eowyn dreaded returning to Minas Tirith, but she had a gut feeling that her return was certain.

What could she do?

The answer was: nothing.

All she could do now was try her best to hold on to that distant hope that she would find a way to escape; although a large part of her kept on saying that she was hoping in vain.

000

By the time they made it to Osgiliath, the sun was already beginning to shed forth its light; Bashgash groaned in anger when he saw this, for he knew that the strength of his orc army would be greatly diminished.

Faramir, in truth, was glad when he saw this, for the shining of the sun always gave him hope, and he was determined not to even so much as attempt to harm his Gondorian brothers; he just hoped that he would find the right time to slip away and make his way back to Minas Tirith; he had never missed that city any more than he did at that moment, and he would have given anything to return.

But much to his surprise, he would not get that opportunity; for Selwyn had ordered Enderlin to tie Faramir up and stay with him in a location that was a good distance from where the battle was taking place. It seemed that he had an idea of what Faramir was going to attempt, for at first he had seemed so confident about Faramir fighting for them.

Bashgash turned to Selwyn angrily.

"I thought that he was here to fight for us! He is of no use to me bound!"

"I did what I had to; he would have betrayed us in an instant," was Selwyn's confident reply.

Bashgash gritted his teeth as the elf walked away.


	36. Sonya

**Uncertain Fates**

Faramir stumbled as Enderlin dragged him along; his wrists had been bound quickly—to quickly for him to even try to attack the elf. All he could do was hope that someone would find him and take him back to Gondor where he could begin the process of personally clearing his name.

Enderlin took him to a very secluded place indeed; he was dragged inside a small cave, luckily for Faramir, Osgiliath was still in sight, but he knew what he was capable of physically, and he knew that he could not run all the way to Osgiliath—especially with a strong, nimble elf chasing him.

The cave was cold and had a sort of rotten smell; Enderlin did not let go of the end of the rope, for he knew that rangers had a way of being resourceful, and he was not going to take any chances.

Faramir found the elf's eyes to be cold and piercing, he knew that he had better watch his words with the elf.

Enderlin refused to take his eyes off of the prisoner, and Faramir could feel the elf's keen eyes boring into him.

"_I do not think that there is any escaping my fate," _thought the despairing captain,

Perhaps he was right; perhaps he was right.

000

As Eowyn traveled through the Wold with the soldiers of Gondor, she felt as though she was home, but she knew that that feeling wouldn't last; instead, those feelings would change from relieved to anxious.

She wished a thousand times that she and Arial had stayed inside the palace that day, but that would have proved to be impossible seeing how both of them were quite outdoorsy.

And then her mind turned to that Captain of Gondor; she had never forgotten that look which had been displayed on his face—on the day of their parting; it had been the expression of one whom in some way, sought death.

Eowyn wondered if he had returned by now or if he was still alive; but she couldn't think about it too much, since thoughts of her own fate clouded in her mind.

000

Boromir was focused; he had just sliced two orcs with one swift stroke of his sword. He would not deny that he was proud of himself.

Two his far left Eomer and Theodred, who were fighting side by side and were fiercely slaying orcs; Boromir saw some orcs trying to escape and without asking for assistance, went after them.

0-0

It was now in the afternoon, and the sun had risen completely; Bashgash was furious, for he knew that his army would now be weakened by the sun.

"Retreat!" he screamed; his voice was at such a high pitch that everyone could hear him.

The orcs retreated in droves, and eventually, so did the Shadow Elves—but they had successfully taken a prisoner.

The armies of Gondor and Rohan put most of their energy into pursuing the orcs; much to the Shadow Elves' luck. So while they snuck away with their prisoner, the orcs were being chased down and killed by the swift strokes of the swords of Rohan and Gondor.

0-0

When Faramir's eyes reopened, the day was still young. Enderlin had the rope go, once he saw that he had awakened, and instead, held a curved sword at his neck.

Faramir put up no protest, for the last thing he wanted at that time was to be beaten; as he looked out of the cave opening (for the opening was wide, and so he had no trouble seeing what was going on outside), he could see that the elves were returning; in some sense he hoped that Selwyn had fallen in battle, but for some reason, that just seemed too good to be true.

It did not take the Shadow Elves too long to reach the cave; not all of them could fit in so they chose to camp outside; Faramir was not surprised to see Selwyn, and he also saw that the Elven-woman who bore such a striking resemblance to Tatiana had survived as well.

But when he looked to his right, he saw that the elves had captured someone; two elves were dragging his bloody, limp form to a secluded place.

Faramir didn't see the man long enough to recognize him, but when he saw that the man was blond, it suddenly struck him that the man could be Marcus!

What if he _had_ returned to Minas Tirith safely?

Faramir knew one thing for sure: he had to find a way to speak with him when he awakened.

000

They walked, and walked, and walked until just about when Eowyn felt that she could go no longer, they stopped at an inn; they had been walking for just about all night, and now the day was still young, but the countless miles of journeying had clearly taken their toll on the poor lady of Rohan.

But unfortunately for Eowyn, it seemed that they were not going to stay at the inn; a few of the soldiers left, and they returned moments later with horses.

Eowyn noticed that two of the horses were joined together at the reins, and she figured that one of those had to be hers.

They all mounted their horses in no time, and ten they all but their horses to a gallop—galloping towards Minas Tirith.

000

Faramir was shocked to see the mysterious Elven woman coming his way; what did she want?

Her face was expressionless as she knelt before him; she began to unbind his wrists. Faramir found that he couldn't take his eyes off of her, for it was definitely an intriguing mystery.

The woman looked up and caught Faramir staring at her, and he didn't avert his gaze. She seemed quite agitated by this, and so her slender fingers began to work nimbly at the rope.

Faramir could not hold back any longer; he had to find out what connection she had with Tatiana, for it would be impossible to say that there was none.

"Who are you?" he asked, "you bear a striking resemblance to one I have come to know."

He didn't even have to put a name for the Elven woman to know whom he was talking about, her face hardened and she stared at him intently.

"How do you know my sister?"

Faramir's eyes widened a little, even though he should have known that that was coming.

"You are Tatiana's sister?" he asked, wondering why Tatiana had made no mention to her sister.

"I do not speak such lies," she said, fumbling with a rather large knot which Enderlin had done.

"You must be her twin sister, then; what is your name?"

"You Gondorians ask too many questions at once; do I not look identical to her?" she snapped. "As for my name, it is Sonya."

Faramir was about to say something else, but when he looked up, he saw Selwyn; the elf wore a scowl on his face as he approached the two of them.

"I think that your work here is done," he said to Sonya; his tone was not harsh, rude, or sarcastic.

The Elven-woman blushed at the sound of his voice and left at his bidding.

Faramir was surprised to see that Selwyn took Sonya's place; he watched Selwyn's long fingers at work—not a word was exchanged between them.

Faramir had noticed that some elves had not returned to camp, which meant only one thing: that they had been killed in battle. In truth, it saddened him, for he knew that their chances for redemption had ran out.

Faramir's wrists were pale and raw, for Enderlin had tied them as tight as tight could be; the most emotion that Selwyn showed was a slight smirk when Faramir grimaced as he removed them.

He couldn't wait for Selwyn to leave so that he could have a chance to speak to the prisoner whom he presumed was Marcus; he couldn't wait to hear of all that was happening in Minas Tirith—for he could not wait to return.

0-0

The young blond man awakened; much to his discomfort.

He found that he was soaked in his own blood. He remembered what had happened before he had lost consciousness:

_He had been slaying orcs, and he had even killed a few of the evil elves; but something made him stop in his tracks: it was a woman, one of the most beautiful that he had ever seen._

_Her chestnut hair blew in the wind, and her sword shone even without the sun; her piercing green eyes bored into him._

_He knew that she was supposed to be his enemy, but that fact that she was a woman stayed his hand._

_And then all of a sudden, a raven-haired Elven man emerged from an all but collapsed stone pillar, and sliced his sharp blade across the mans stomach._

He remembered nothing else after that.

When he finally found the strength to lift his weary eyes up, he saw someone coming his way; the person who was approaching him was clearly not an elf, but yet he was dressed in their attire.

When Faramir got close enough to the man, he knelt down; now that he could see properly, the man certainly was _not_ Marcus.

The man gathered all of the strength that he could muster at that time, and drew back from the Ranger.

"Listen to me; I am not one of them, I am only held captive like you, if you are a Gondorian you should know who I am."

"I am not a Gondorian," the man said, still somewhat defensively.

"I am Faramir, Captain of the Ithilien Rangers—you can trust me."

"If you are who you say you are, then what are you doing here? I would have thought that you were far away—due to your desertion."

Faramir was silent for a moment; could this mean that Marcus didn't return to Minas Tirith?

It most certainly did, for Faramir knew that the soldier would try to clear the Captain of Gondor's name.

"The accusations of desertions are false; if you ask all of the elves around here, even they will tell you that I have been with them the entire time."

The man was now convinced. "I am Caleb of Rohan; I do not know why they did not kill me, for they had the chance."

"They can do such things, Caleb, but let me tell you that we are in a very bad predicament, but there is still hope."


	37. An unexpected message

_**A/N: **Hey guy's, here's chapter 37; enjoy._

**Uncertain Fates**

In the wee hours of that next morning, Caleb was dragged from his sleeping place and taken to a hill, over-looking a small, but deep river.

Selwyn started things off by giving him a harsh kick in his face. The force of the kick caused Caleb to fall back onto a hard rock.

"Now, tell me…soldier of Rohan, where do our enemies intend to attack from next?" he asked, his flaming eyes bored into the young soldier.

Caleb could feel the blood oozing down the back of his neck, but he would rather die than be disloyal to his countrymen. "I know nothing; the future plans were not revealed to me—if there are any," as he said this, he grimaced from the pain of his earlier wounds.

Selwyn punched the defenseless soldier in the face: "You lie!" he spat. "I have no patience for such scum."

One of the elves believed what Caleb was saying; what if they had captured the wrong soldier. "Selwyn," he said, walking up to the raging elf. "Perhaps he is not lyi-"

"Shut up!" Selwyn interrupted, cutting him off; he knelt down so that he was at about the same level as Caleb. "Listen to me _soldier_; your lies are useless, and if you do not speak the truth now…" he allowed his voice to trail off as he looked at the river, he then turned back to Caleb,"… Then you shall be thrown into the river, and by the time your rotting, lifeless corpse resurfaces, you will not even be recognizable."

Caleb stared at Selwyn—he had made his choice. "I do not care what you say you are going to do to me: It will not make me tell you, for how can I tell you something that I do not know? I glad to know that I will never have to look upon your wretched face again!"

0-0

Faramir was awakened by a kick in the ribs by Selwyn.

"Get up; we are setting our course for Mordor," was all that the elf said before walking off.

Faramir sat up and glanced into the corner where the Rohirric young man was—only to find that he was gone. Faramir frowned at this, but didn't have the time to think on it much, right now he had to focus on the return to Mordor.

000

As Boromir, Eomer, and Theodred cleaned their weapons, they reminisced on the days events; they all could hear the sound of a horses hoofs, but they paid no attention—until the horseman was right in front of them; he dismounted and greeted them in respectable fashion.

"My lords, I come in the names of lord Denethor and lord Théoden; they have requested that you all return to Minas Tirith at once."

Boromir dropped his sword and stood up; "Why? What is going on?"

"They recently received news that lady Eowyn has returned to Minas Tirith."

Eomer and Theodred paled and dropped their swords—they knew that this was not good.

0-0

Eowyn sat in the solitude of her old room; she had arrived in Minas Tirith in the wee hours of the morning, and had been brought to the Citadel immediately, and from there was, of course, taken to her quarters.

She had been by herself; staring out of the window, fearing what might befall her next.

She gasped as she heard a knock on the door, for it interrupted her thoughts; but she composed herself quickly.

"Who is there?" she asked at a tone which was loud enough for the person on the other side of the door to hear.

"It is me, my lady," answered Norah's voice. "Are you alright?"

Eowyn breathed a sigh of relief; that was one upside in returning to Minas Tirith, for she had felt like she needed to talk to her maid while she was away more than once.

Once Eowyn opened the door, she embraced her handmaiden. "Oh, Norah; I cannot tell you how happy I am to see you again!"

Norah returned the embrace, but the only thing was that she felt a little differently than Eowyn: she felt guilt.

She regretted everything that had happened while Eowyn had been gone, and she would have given anything to confess it to the lady of Rohan right then and there, but for some reason, she just could not bring herself to.

"I am glad to see you again, my lady; despite the circumstances."

Eowyn pulled out of the hug; "Despite the circumstances indeed. In some sense, it all just feels like a dream—a very bad dream."

"Do not speak such things, my lady," said Norah trying to comfort her. "Everything happens for a reason."

"I cannot see what good my returning will do; now I am forced to live in a cage for the rest of my life!"

"Before things get better, they have to get worse, my lady; do you remember when you told me that?"

Eowyn smiled faintly, despite the fact that she now felt empty and hopeless.

Eowyn had been about ten and Norah thirteen, when Eowyn had fallen gravely ill; Norah had sat by her side day and night, weeping for her mistress. Despite the situation, Eowyn didn't want to see Norah crying so hard, for she believed that she was going to get better—and it was at that moment that she spoke those words to her despairing maid.

"I remember," Eowyn said in a low voice. "It seems like it was just yesterday…we were riding freely—no marriage…no unhappiness. I cannot believe that the rest of _my_ life is going to be wasted away—I am married to Boromir, a man that I don't love! It was not my own choice! And when he is old and decrepit, I must try to love him still!" Eowyn was so angry that she wanted to break something so badly.

"My lady, he is only older than you by seventeen years, you need not worry about—"

"Shut your mouth!" Eowyn snapped. "I would rather be alone right now."

Norah, stunned by Eowyn's sharp remark, left without another word.

000

The lord of Gondor and the lord's of Rohan rode together; they had had to leave sooner than expected, and they spoke not a word to each other, but it was needless to say that one person was on all of their minds: Eowyn.

Theodred and Eomer were furious that she had been caught, and at the same time they were scared for her, for they knew that it was impossible to protect her from Denethor's wrath.

Boromir, on the other hand, was just anxious to see her again; he didn't have the slightest idea of what he was going to say to her, but he knew that they would have to talk. He just hoped that Denethor hadn't gotten to her first…


	38. A heart of stone

_**A/N: **Well, here's an update, and I hope that you all enjoy this chapter--even if you don't, feel free to review and tell me why. Anyway, enjoy! ; )_

**Uncertain Fates**

_He could see someone slumped on the ground, and as he got closer he realized that it was a man—a familiar redhead; Boromir drew his sword and approached with caution_

_He could now see that the man's head hung in sorrow and despair; his hair and clothes were matted with blood and dirt, and now Boromir could see that he was cradling a woman in his arms, he could make out her brown hair._

_The man was murmuring in a low voice,a poem that seemed unfamiliar to Boromir:_

"_Time flows by and by,_

_And even as you leave this world,_

_You shall not be forgotten._

_You lived a life of bravery and courage,_

_You shall not be forgotten; I shall not forget you…"_

_Boromir saw that the woman he was holding was bleeding very badly, it seemed that she had an arrow in her stomach._

"_W—who are you?" he asked in a shaky voice, but yet trying to sound bold at the same time._

_The redheaded man turned around; his face was scarred and covered with blood._

"_Brother?" the man said in a voice that was all but a whisper. "Help me."_

_Boromir had never seen his brother like that; he dropped his sword, stumbled, and fell on his rear._

"_Brother, you must help me!" cried Faramir, gently laying the body down; his hands were covered in the woman's blood. Boromir now assumed that she was dead._

_He began to scoot back and away from Faramir._

"_Brother, please! Do not abandon me!" screamed Faramir, running towards him._

_To Boromir, Faramir looked like a bloodied madman; he knew that running would be useless, and as he stared into the face of his brother, he could see…rage._

Boromir gasped and sat up on his horse; it took everything he had to not fall off at that time. He wasn't supposed to fall asleep, but he was quite exhausted from the battle, and when their horses had stopped at a lake to drink, he had drifted off into sleep—now, he wished that he hadn't.

He could feel the sun beating down on him, and as he looked around, Eomer and Theodred's horses were just beginning to trot away from the lake. He immediately regained control of the reigns and rode alongside them.

Despite the fact that it was a fairly warm day and the sun was shining, Boromir was almost deathly pale; the dream that he had just dreamt was horrific and it haunted him to the point where he didn't even want to think of sleeping.

But what did the dream really mean?

Did it mean that Faramir was indeed alive?

But if that was the case, then Boromir wondered what conditions he was living under, for he had clearly been beaten or those were untreated wounds from a recent fight. He knew not what to make of it.

He seemed so troubled, that even Eomer and Theodred noticed this, and they were worried for Eowyn.

Finally, Eomer rode closer to Boromir, and decided to see if he was alright; Boromir's head was slightly down, and he didn't seem to notice Eomer.

"Boromir," said Eomer, in a concerned voice, forgetting to address him formally. "Are you alright? Are you ill?"

Theodred momentarily turned his head to see Boromir's reaction. The soldier barely gave any.

"I am fine," he said finally; "You need not worry about me."

Eomer stared at him for a few moments, and then said nothing else on the matter, for as they all looked up, they knew that they would have to prepare for they reunion because the great gates of Minas Tirith were in walking distance.

0-0

A little while later, Eowyn was sitting in her room when she saw the door knob turning; she frown at this because she thought that only she had the key to her room.

"Who is there?" she called, walking up to the door.

The person on the other end didn't answer; instead, the door swung open, and in walked Denethor.

"I am sorry, my lord; I did not know that it was you at the door," she said as calmly as she could.

"I care not for your formality," he said bitterly; "The only thing that I care for is punishing you for bringing such embarrassment to me and my son. How long did you think that you could stay hidden? Don't tell me that you were so foolish as to think that you would spend all of your days with those…_elves_. You have indeed brough scandal to our door! Did you not think of the repercussions? If I would have known what you were really like, I would have married my son off to a woman who was much more worthy and appreciative than _you_," he stared at her with such anger that Eowyn thought he would try to kill her at that very moment.

"Perhaps you should have done just that, my lord; it would have made all of our lives much easier—tell me, did lord Boromir have any say about whether he was going to marry me or not? I think I know the answer to that, _my lord_. It is no; and yes, you should have been patient enough to learn about Rohirric women, for if you did, then my deeds would not come as such a surprise to you," Eowyn sounded much bolder than she felt, for she knew that she would have to face his wrath.

And she was right; Denethor was furious, but as he raised his hand to hit her, they both heard a stern voice from the doorway.

"I think that you have said enough, father," said Boromir in a calm, yet cold voice; "May I have a word with my wife—alone?"

Denethor was so furious that he could no longer look at the lady of Rohan; he turned and went to Boromir.

"It is good to know that you are well, my son," he said.

"Thank you, father; we shall talk soon," said Boromir.

Before leaving, Denethor whispered to Boromir. "Do not believe a word that she says; her words are poison, and she has a heart of stone. It is your duty as her husband to put her in her rightful place," and with that being said, he walked away.

Eowyn sauntered over to the window, she could hear Boromir close the door.

"Have you come to chastise me also, my lord?" she asked, with her back still turned to him.

Boromir had always envisioned her return, but now here it was; she showed no remorse for running away—at least as far as he could tell.

"What you thinking!" he shouted suddenly. "I was worried for you; I cannot tell you how much I feared for your life!"

Eowyn turned around swiftly, her blue eyes flashed with anger. "I am sorry that you went through much toil for me, but you shouldn't have!"

"How could I not have?" Boromir was so angry, he took her by her upper arms; "What was you thinking! How you do this, not only to me but to all of those who love you?"

"Get your hands off of me, Boromir!" Eowyn shouted, freeing herself. "I never want to see your wretched face again!" she said, smiting across his left cheek. "Get out!" she shrieked.

Eowyn's slap stunned and stung the Captain of Gondor, but his expression remained unchanged—except for a visible flicker of anger in his eyes.

"I thought that you would have at least been willing to try to make this work so that we wouldn't live in misery, but I see that I was wrong."

"Yes, you were; I do not love you and I never will! Get out!" she said; she had completely lost her temper, partly because everything was beginning to sink in; for as far as she knew, Arial was dead, her plan to escape had eventually failed, and now she was forced to live in a prison called Minas Tirith until her dying day.

Before turning to leave, Boromir spoke to her once more. "Father was right: you _do_ have a heart of stone," and with that being said, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. He had slammed it quite hard, so hard in fact that the pictures on the walls shook.

She sighed deeply; "That went well."

**_A/N 2: I know that the poem wasn't all that great, but who says that all poems must rhyme? I hope that you guy's enjoyed the story. R&R. ; )_**


	39. She doesn't love me

_**A/N: **Wow, I managed to update today; I didn't think that I'd be able to, but here's chapter thirty-nine. Sorry if it seems to be a bit short--I've been pretty swamped this week. ; )_

**_Jedi Knight247_**

**Uncertain Fates**

"Son, you must calm down," soothed Denethor. "All things will happen in due time—I am certain that she will come around."

"Did you not hear what I just said?" Boromir asked in an agitated voice; he stopped pacing and turned to the Steward. "She doesn't love me, father!"

Denethor pursed his lips and sighed. "She may say that now, but—"

"And she never will!" Boromir interrupted.

"Do not say such thing, my son; you must let time take its course; but I will say that you _must_ find a way to tame that woman, for she alone could put enough shame on the house of Hùrin to last for all of the ages!" after saying this, Denethor stood up and walked to the window.

0-0

Later that evening, all eight sat down to dinner at the long table—that is, Denethor, Boromir, Éowyn, Éomer, Théoden, Théodred, Grima, and last but not least, Denethor's advisor, Gelidir.

The dinner was, no doubt, uncomfortable; Grima made sure that he was sitting next to King Théoden so that he could constantly whisper things in his ear. This annoyed not only Théodred, but Éomer and Éowyn also.

Éowyn could see that her cousin and her brother desperately wanted to talk to her, and she wanted to speak with them too, but she knew that it would just have to wait.

At this time, all around the table were preoccupied with either their food, or in some form of conversation—all except for Denethor's advisor.

Gelidir was miserable. He missed his family dearly, and yet Denethor would brush him off so easily whenever he asked permission to see them; he knew that he couldn't leave without the Steward's permission, but now he wanted nothing more than to be with his family.

000

They had been marching all day without any rest, and Faramir thought that he was going to collapse at any moment.

The rope which had been tied around his wrists began to cut into his skin—but the elf who was leading him didn't seem to care. Finally, when he thought that he was going to drop dead, they stopped and rested by a stream.

The elf released his grip on the rope, allowing Faramir to wander to the stream; even though the elf had released his grip, Faramir could still feel eyes watching him keenly.

As he knelt down by the stream to drink, he knew that it would be difficult, for the ropes were tied tightly around his wrists. But he didn't even think about that much, for it had almost been a day since he had had an adequate amount of water; forgetting about maintaining his dignity, he cupped the water in his hands and began to drink.

He suddenly stopped when he could see someone next to him out of the corner of his eye.

Sonya.

The Elven woman quickly began to fill the water skins, glancing only briefly at the captive. Even though her sister would have, she didn't feel much compassion for the Gondorian at all; but she and Tatiana were completely different people.

She glanced at him again, only to find that he was looking at her. Annoyed by this, she just ignored him.

"Is this your first time—going to Mordor?" Faramir asked softly.

"What does it matter?" she asked dryly.

"Perhaps it does not, then," Faramir replied.

Sonya and Faramir went on in silence, and spoke not one word to each other again up until the very day that they entered the land of Mordor.

000

Before either Sonya or Faramir set a single foot in Mordor, the uncomfortable dinner had just ended.

To Éowyn it seemed that Théoden never even tried to make contact with her. He was much too frail and weak. In addition to that…he looked very ill.

After the meal, Éowyn had had a not-so brief conversation with Éomer and Théodred. She had told them everything that had happened, and it made her feel much better to talk to people who didn't scorn her deeds, but understood that she did it out of sheer desperation.

Éomer and Théodred had instructed her to be obedient, so that she would draw any bad attention to herself; Éowyn had, of course, told them that she would only do what she thought to be right.

While she was conversing with her brother and cousin, she completely ignored Boromir's very existence; if either of them by chance got eye contact, she would look through him as though he were nothing more than air—Boromir had never been treated that way before, but he handled it well, and tried to remain unfazed.

They seemed less like husband and wife that night, and more like bitter enemies.

000

Éowyn spent much of the next day with her maiden, Norah; Éowyn had apologized to Norah, and had explained to the maid that it wasn't her, but merely the situation.

It was now evening time, and the guests for the important dinner were beginning to arrive.

Éowyn was dressed in a sky blue wide necked dress, with her hair flowing freely down her shoulders.

Éowyn and Boromir arrived in the large hall at the same time, but they spoke not a word to one another. Éowyn wore a straight face and looked quite unapproachable; Boromir was almost immediately engaged in a deep conversation with Laddyn's brother, Philippe.

Éowyn was saddened that Éomer, Théodred, and Théoden couldn't stay; she wasn't exactly sad about Grima leaving.

Soon, servants of the Steward entered the hall, and ushered them to the room where the actual dinner would take place.

It was a large hall, with an enormous table, which was obviously the center of the room. And at the head of it sat Denethor; he was smiling broadly (and some would call it fake) at his guests.

Once they were all seated, Denethor cleared his throat loudly and spoke.

"Thank you all for coming, as you know, this is a very serious matter that has brought us together: Osgiliath."

Everyone around the table nodded in approval—all except for Éowyn. At this moment, she didn't care for Osgiliath.

"Ithilien Rangers reported to me that orc reinforcements are on the way; and that is not all. I have also received word from some of the soldiers that they also have elves on their side."

Denethor stopped speaking for a moment to let what he said sink into his guests.

There was talking amongst them all, until Denethor began to speak again.

"This means only one thing: we must send more soldiers to Osgiliath to repel their attacks! It is the only way!" he roared.

Everyone except for Prince Imrahil and Boromir agreed.

Prince Imrahil spoke first. "With all due respect, my lord; if we continue to pour more and more men into Osgiliath, our defenses will be weakened elsewhere."

Denethor's expression soured; Boromir took advantage of the silence and spoke up. "My lord, lord Imrahil is right; for we need these soldiers elsewhere: look at South Ithilien for instance. Haradrim have been spotted journeying to and fro, but they have all met with little resistance. That is because we our focusing on Osgiliath and nothing else!"

Denethor was crushed that Boromir wasn't backing him; the table was now in uproar, and when everyone was calmed down, Boromir looked at the chair that was next to him, only to find it empty.

Éowyn was gone.


	40. Hopes of valor

**Uncertain Fates**

Éowyn unsheathed her sword, she stared at herself in the mirror and her eyes began to water; she had always hoped that she would someday earn her honor in battle. But now her dreams of valor were diminishing with each passing day.

She would now be confined within the walls of a city which she had no love for. She would grow old and die here with no chance of earning honor in battle. But she couldn't seem to let her hopes go.

"Someday," she whispered to herself. "Someday I'll get the chance."

0-0

Boromir had politely excused himself from the table and went in search of Éowyn.

Yes, it had been a while since he and the lady of Rohan had exchanged words, but he still thought that he should go and bring her back to the table, for he thought it wrong that she should just leave like that; whether she was interested in the topic or not.

He decided that he should start with her quarters, and if she was not there then he would have to ask Norah, for she would surely know.

Boromir quietly made his way down the long hall until he finally reached her quarters. Surprisingly, the door was ajar.

He could see into the room with ease, and he saw…Éowyn. He watched her silently for a few minutes.

Sorrow was clearly on her face. She had not the slightest idea that someone was watching her.

Boromir watched her graceful form as she held the sword. It was just an ordinary soldiers sword, nothing more; and as he was about to enter and confront her, she spoke.

"Someday; someday I'll get the chance."

Boromir frowned at this; surely she was not talking about going to battle—or was she? Boromir didn't know her all that well, so he couldn't settle on a definite answer, but he knew that he had to bring her back down to the meeting before there was talk of their absence.

He swung the door open, and Éowyn whirled around, with her sword still in hand.

Boromir said nothing to her until he entered the room. Éowyn lowered her sword arm, and eventually dropped the weapon to the ground.

"My lady, if it is battle that you seek, you will not get it; I will not allow it."

Éowyn stared at him with a straight face. "How long have you been there—watching me?"

Boromir couldn't help smiling when he saw the look on Éowyn's face. "Long enough to see how you wield a sword," he answered.

Éowyn looked down, averting his gaze for the first time in a long time. "Perhaps we should go back to the meeting now," she suggested calmly. "I am sure that you are missed at the table," and with that being said, she walked out of her quarters, leaving Boromir behind.

000

**_Eleven months later in Mordor…_**

Faramir wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his right hand. That was the twentieth sword that he alone had forged.

Ever since he had returned to Mordor, his work had doubled (that was, of course, the work of Selwyn), and when word had come, saying that Bashgash had been slain, another orc named Uthugly had taken over as the taskmaster, and he _tripled_ Faramir's work, so now the poor Gondorian only got around three hours of sleep, for his work was so overwhelming. He had seen Selwyn and Sonya, but the Elven woman did not even attempt to get eye contact with him or speak to him; while Selwyn on the other hand, seemed to enjoy seeing Faramir toil along.

But the Gondorian never gave up hope for freedom. He had managed to sneak another dagger, and this time he wouldn't be so hasty to use it, for this could be his last chance, and he wasn't about to squander it.

He worked normally so that he wouldn't give them any indication that he was planning to escape; he would be much more cautious this time…he would not fail. He couldn't afford to fail. The Ithilien Rangers needed their Captain back; Boromir needed his brother back…but did Denethor need his younger son back? Faramir didn't think so. Perhaps he was right.

0-0

Faramir worked silently, for he was much too busy trying to think of a plan that could guarantee a successful escape.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he accidentally pounded the metal too hard—so hard that it broke off and the sword was ruined. He closed his eyes for a moment, hoping that Uthugly wouldn't see. Unfortunately, the orc did see him, and stormed over to him right away.

Faramir sighed deeply, afraid of what punishment might befall him now; his spirits had been low since his failed attempt, and now he just wanted to live out his days in Mordor as peacefully as possible until he escaped; but with Uthugly lurking about, that was impossible.

"What have we here?" growled the one eyed orc, for he had lost his left eye while fighting the soldiers of Gondor and Rohan in Osgiliath.

Faramir scrambled for words. "It—it is nothing," he said, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"You've ruined that sword, you swine!" he shouted, spitting in Faramir's face.

Faramir could feel the nasty, cold, slimy spit running down his face, but he kept his face straight and looked downward, waiting for his punishment.

And it came. Uthugly landed a well aimed blow to the Gondorian's stomach. Weak and overcome with weariness, Faramir fell to the ground; holding his stomach.

Uthugly laughed evilly, "That's what you get when you slack!" he shouted.

Faramir looked up at the orc just in time to see Uthugly draw his sword.

It took everything that Faramir had to not draw the dagger, for it is a natural instinct to defend oneself.

Faramir began to scoot backwards and away from the maddened orc, but Uthugly was persistent. Orcs eventually began to join him, for they were in desperate need of entertainment.

Uthugly knew that he was under strict orders from Selwyn, so he couldn't kill him or anything, but he had every intention of hurting Faramir. And he knew exactly where.

The scars on Faramir's face were beginning to heal, and so Uthugly decided that it would be best if he hit him there.

"Hold him down!" he ordered the orcs, and they did so, despite Faramir's struggle.

The Gondorian watched as the orc grinned with glee. He turned his blade around so that the hilt was facing Faramir, and the last thing that the Gondorian remembered was seeing Uthugly prepare to hit him. After that, all went black.

0-0

Faramir awakened to the feeling of his sore face being roughly washed by a cold cloth. He still had yet to open his eyes.

He winced and immediately felt around for one of the wrists to stop whoever it was from doing whatever he or she was doing. His hand met a slender wrist, and when his eyes popped open, he found himself staring into the face of Sonya.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a whisper.

"You are hurt; Selwyn sent me to tend to your wounds."

Faramir looked around and saw that he was in a tent. He tried to sit up but Sonya stopped him.

"You have to rest first, or you shan't be much good for anything."

Faramir could still detect a sort of coldness in her voice, and her expression remained unchanged.

"I shall tend to you until I have to go to Harad—by then you should be better."

Faramir's eyes widened as a whole new plan for escape hatched in his head. "You are going to Harad?" he asked.

"Did you not hear me?" she asked sharply.

His newfound plan was: if he could somehow get Sonya to warm up to him enough so that he could trust her, he could tell her of his plan to escape Mordor for good, and she could convince Selwyn to let him come to Harad with her…well he wouldn't really be going to Harad, he would be heading back to Gondor!

"When will you be leaving?" he asked.

"In three weeks," she answered casually, dipping the cloth back into the bowl which contained murky water.

Faramir knew that he probably couldn't get her to warm up to him in a few weeks' time! He would have to take the risk of telling her now. But he had one final question for her.

"Are you going alone?"

Sonya eyed him curiously. "Yes; why?"

Faramir sat up and leaned close to her so that if anyone was outside of the tent listening, they wouldn't hear.

"I know that you do not like me, but if you do this for me I shall be indebted to you with my life. That I promise."

"What are you talking about?" Sonya asked blankly.

"I…I need you to do something for me, Sonya," he blurted out. "I need you to help me escape."

Sonya seemed shocked for a moment, but she soon regained her composure. "You are mad indeed," she scolded. "I am loyal to Selwyn not you; I do not grant the prisoners special favors; I thought that you should know that by now."

"If you will just listen to me for one moment," Faramir pleaded.

Sonya sighed and looked him straight in the eye. "It would make more sense to me if you stayed and waited for death to claim you, for if you seek it then Selwyn will indeed give you a very slow and painful one."

Faramir swallowed, knowing that she was right. "That is a risk that I am willing to take. I know that you do not care about my wellbeing, and I am not asking you to. I am not even asking you to run away with me; you will be perfectly innocent, and if Selwyn sends elves after anyone, it will be me…not you," he said in a whisper.

Sonya looked down for a few moments, as though she was in thought, until she finally spoke up. "What is your plan?" she asked sharply, but it was clear that Faramir had touched her conscience.

"Why should I tell you now? For all I know, you could tell Selwyn the moment you leave this tent," Faramir said.

"You should have thought about that risk before you decided to tell me that you were planning to escape. If I tell Selwyn, he will cut you down with his sword—and then kill you; you may think that I am very cold, but I do have a heart…a conscience, and though I cannot possibly imagine why Tatiana could possibly want anything to do with you, I do not want to see you die in such a brutal way. At least if I agree to help you, you'll die with some form of dignity I suppose."

"So you are saying that you'll help me?" Faramir asked.

"Perhaps," she replied flatly.

Faramir knew that he was taking a risk, but if he ever wanted to see his loved ones again, he would have to seize the moment, and he did. Faramir took a deep breath and told her of his plan.

_**Mordor: Three weeks from then**_

Faramir had no belongings to pack up as he waited for Sonya.

It seemed like he had been waiting forever when she finally emerged from her tent. Three weeks ago, she had agreed only because the conversation gnawed at her conscience. She had successfully convinced Selwyn to allow Faramir to accompany her; saying: _"I can handle him; do I not have a sword?"_

So Selwyn had reluctantly permitted it, and so it had been set.

They didn't exchange a single word as they walked together, past the orcs other foul creatures; it took a while before they finally reached the Morannon, and when the finally did, the black gates opened and they walked out.

Sonya was still enthralled in the wicked band of elves, and Faramir was on his way to becoming a free man.


	41. Two journeys to Minas Tirith

**Uncertain Fates**

Although Faramir hadn't really said much about when he would break off and head for Minas Tirith, Sonya figured that she had some kind of idea:

In her way of thinking, she thought that Faramir would accompany her at least halfway to Harad, to make the story, in her opinion, more believable.

Faramir had been hazy on the details because he didn't want to make her lie more than what was necessary, and since she asked him no questions pertaining to that subject, he spoke not of it either, and both journeyed in silence.

They had journeyed as far as Ithilien when they decided to rest for the night. Sonya had told him already that their stops would be very few and to 'Make the most of your resting place.'

But when she awakened in the wee hours, Faramir was gone.

Sonya looked around to see if she could catch a glimpse of someone stumbling up the hills. But no, Faramir was nowhere in sight.

Sighing softly to herself, Sonya packed up her meager things and set out for Harad.

0-0

As soon as Sonya drifted into her Elven slumber, Faramir took off. He ran as fast as his legs would allow him. He needed to rest, but his loved ones came first; he knew that he was probably presumed dead by now—even Tatiana probably thought him dead.

Was she still in Cair Andros?

That question plagued Faramir. He wondered if she had given up on waiting for him and had left to get on with her life.

He wouldn't blame her if she did, but it certainly would break his heart; yet, he loved her and wanted the best for her—no matter what.

He stumbled and toiled across the land which he thought his home more than Minas Tirith. Normally, he was used to walking miles upon miles in Ithilien; but after all that he had experienced, his body had broken down. If he would regain all of the strength that he had lost, he knew not. But that was not his main concern right now. Returning to Minas Tirith was.

He continued to stumble as he struggled to put one foot in front of the other. Eventually, after much toil he lurched forward and fell on his face.

000

Twenty soldiers of Gondor galloped across Ithilien; this was their fourth journey to Ithilien in the last six months. They were not alone.

Denethor still had quite a few soldiers searching for Faramir; he was determined to bring him back so the 'justice' could be served upon him.

Suddenly, Hiram, the leader of the search, saw something—or rather—someone ahead. He raised his right hand as a sign for them to stop, and then he dismounted.

On the ground was a dirty form, but it was clear by the build that it was a man. His hair color was bare recognizable, due to the dirt it looked more like dark brown than the red which was not too common in Gondor.

Thinking that he was just a wounded Ranger, Hiram roughly turned the man over with his foot. And when he did he gasped, causing the other soldiers to go and see.

Faramir's eyes slowly opened; he saw about twenty men staring at him in shock.

The reason that they were staring at him like that was half because they found him and half because of the way that he looked. His face was puffy and swollen, due to what Uthugly had done to him recently, and his eyes were almost blood red from exhaustion…not to mention the fact that he was wearing strange clothing.

Hiram instantly regained his composure and made sure that his men regained theirs also. He cleared his throat as he prepared to say the speech that he had practiced many times (and much to his embarrassment was caught doing so).

"Lord Faramir, Captain of the Ithilien Rangers of Gondor, second son of Lord Denethor son of Ecthelion, Steward of Gondor…" he paused for a moment to watch Faramir's expression.

The Captain of Gondor watched the man without even blinking; he was still in disbelief that he had been found, and that they recognized who he was!

"In the name of the Steward, lord Denethor, we soldiers of Gondor place you under arrest."

000

While Hiram was proudly saying his speech two weary soldiers of Gondor wearily made their way up to the White City of Gondor.

They were nearly there when one collapsed of exhaustion, and the fact that poison was ravaging his body.

The blond man groaned in despair when he saw this, and began to try to lift the man's weak body in a failing attempt to carry him the rest of the way.

"Don't worry, Laddyn," whispered Marcus. "We are almost there. Hold on…" the rest of his words muffled indecipherably as he fell under the weight of his companion.

A small groan from Laddyn was the only thing that let Marcus know his companion was still conscious.

Knowing that he would never make it to Minas Tirith carrying Laddyn, Marcus made the decision to go the rest of the way and bring back help for Laddyn. He saw it as Laddyn's only chance for survival.

"I must go, Laddyn," Marcus explained. "I will return with help; this is not the end."

Laddyn's head lolled from side to side; he could feel the burning pain of the poison as it slowly but steadily made its way through his body. He said nothing. He could say nothing, for the pain was so bad.

Marcus lifted Laddyn's legs, freeing himself. He then shakily rose to his feet and forced himself to run the last two miles to the gates of Gondor.

Two Gondorian soldiers, seeing a man dressed in garments of Harad, ran forward with their swords in hand.

"Who are you?" one asked roughly.

Marcus looked up; "I am Marcus, a soldier of Gondor," he answered weakly. "I was sent by lord Denethor to look for lord Faramir. I was side-tracked by orcs, taken to Harad. My friend Laddyn and I are the only survivors," he had somewhat found a way to explain this so quickly, that the soldiers could barely understand what he was saying.

Finally, the other soldier spoke up. "Where is your 'friend'?"

"He is two miles behind us. He has been poisoned and is gravely ill; please help him."

"Habakkuk!" the soldier called out.

In less than a minute and tall man, weighing about two hundred pounds ran up to them. He saluted the two soldiers in formal fashion, and eyed the stranger curiously.

"There is a wounded man two miles from here," said the soldier, pointing in the direction that Marcus came from. "Go to him."

Without further question, Habakkuk went to find Laddyn.

The soldier then turned his attention back to Marcus. "As for you; I will personally escort you to the houses of healing, where you will be taken care of."

"No!" Marcus protested weakly. "I must speak to the Steward at once."


	42. Forgive me father

**Uncertain Fates**

The weak soldier of Gondor was led to the Citadel by the two soldiers he had met at the gates; he was worried about Laddyn, and hoped that the man would make it. But he knew that he had to tell Denethor that Faramir was innocent, and the crimes he was accused of were false.

As they walked down the long hall, they came to two large double doors made of wood and carved to perfection. Five guards were standing by these doors and stopped the other soldiers immediately.

"The Steward asked not to be disturbed," one said, standing in front of all the rest. "And who is this…Haradrim?"

"Nay, Tyrmir, he is not a man of Harad; he is a soldier of Gondor—"

Marcus interrupted the soldier. "Tyrmir, you must listen to me. I _must_ speak to the Steward alone; I bring information of great value. I promise."

Tyrmir hesitated for a moment before walking up to another soldier and whispering something into his ear.

The soldier nodded and quickly entered the large room to see the Steward.

0-0

Denethor was sitting in a large chair having a discussion with Gelidir; the Stewards advisor had been inwardly miserable for a little while now, but he tried to show the Steward respect by keeping his true feelings hidden.

The current topic was Osgiliath; Gelidir was giving Denethor advice on how many reinforcements to bring when the door creaked open.

Denethor looked into that direction, quite agitated that he had been disturbed when he clearly stated that he had wanted otherwise.

A tall and lanky soldier walked in, his posture was a tad bit lanky as he went formally on one knee.

"I said that I did not wish to be disturbed!" Denethor roared.

The soldier looked up at the Steward. "Merciful master…I mean—my lord. Th…there is a man who wishes to s…speak with you."

Denethor scowled at the young soldier's clumsiness, while Gelidir pitied him and at the same time found the situation a little comical.

Denethor was clearly annoyed by the intrusion. "Tell him to go away and come back another time," he said dryly.

"H…he said that he has information of g…great value, my lord."

Denethor frowned. "What sort of information?"

"I do not know, my lord," answered the soldier, hoping to gain some form of composure.

Gelidir looked at the Steward. "What harm is it to let the man in, my lord? We know not what tidings he brings. It will do you more ill than good if you turn him away."

Denethor sighed. "Very well; bring him in."

The soldier nodded. "Yes, my lord."

The soldier soon returned with a blond man dressed in the attire of the Haradrim.

"Who is this you have brought before me!" shrieked Denethor, standing up, and not noticing the man's hair color.

"No, my lord; I am not a Haradrim, but a lost soldier of Gondor; my name is Marcus."

Denethor sat back down, his eyes pierced Marcus like a dozen knives, making the soldier feel uncomfortable.

"I…I must speak with you, my lord—alone."

Gelidir and the soldier exchanged glances, and then turned to Denethor.

"Do as he wishes," Denethor commanded.

After bowing formally, both left without a word of protest.

"Now, what is it that you want to tell me?" Denethor asked coldly.

0-0

While Denethor was dismissing his advisor and the soldier, Boromir silently crept to the end of the secret passage. The passage led to the main hall—the Steward's current location.

Boromir never was one to eavesdrop; in fact, he remembered scolding a young Faramir for doing so. But for some reason, he had had a voice in the back of his mind, telling him to use the passage; and so heeding to the voice, he wound up in the current predicament.

As he got closer, he could hear muffled voices.

"Forgive me father," he murmured, before pressing his ear against the door to listen.

0-0

"My lord," Marcus began. "I know that we have all been under the delusion that lord Faramir is a deserter—"

"That is because it's true," Denethor interrupted.

Marcus resumed. "But as I discovered with my own two eyes…that is not quite true. He is being held captive, my lord."

0-0

When Boromir had heard Marcus's words, he froze as though he were a block of ice.

Desertion? Nothing was ever mentioned to him about desertion! He tried to control his anger so that he could listen to what 'Marcus' had to say.

He listened as Marcus told Denethor everything. It seemed to Boromir that Marcus didn't forget a word that was exchanged between himself and Faramir.

000

Faramir stumbled along as his weary legs struggled so hard to keep up with the horse's canter.

He was bound at the wrists and the rope was attached to the bridle of Hiram's horse.

Hiram either didn't seem to notice Faramir's turmoil. In fact, he urged the horse to go faster, leaving the Captain of Gondor to stumble and toil.

000

After Marcus finished, Denethor leaned back in his chair.

"A very convincing tale indeed; but as being the Steward of Gondor, I have learned not to change my decision because of one person's word."

"But my lord, you have simply taken Gelmir's word, when lord Faramir's fellow Rangers, who know him better than Gelmir continue to insist that he never did such a thing!"

Denethor leaned forward. "That is because he is the only witness; and even if your story is true, you have no way of proving to me that he had been with those _elves_ the entire time, do you?"

"I-I…my lord—"

"That is just what I thought. You are excused out of my presence; one of my guards will escort you to the houses of healing where you will be cared for—body and mind. Guards!" he called.

Instantly the doors flung open and the guards walked in. "How may we be of service to you, my lord?" one asked, after the formal bow.

"I want one of you to escort this man to the houses of healing; he has had a very disturbing ordeal."

"Yes my lord," said one of the guards stepping forward. "I will take him."

"You cannot simply brush this aside, my lord; if you do then his blood will be upon your hands, for he may die in captivity!"

"Take him away before I decide to deal with him myself!" Denethor ordered.

Two guards took the weak soldier and escorted him out, despite his protesting.

The remaining guards stood still, waiting for a command.

"Is there anything else that we may do for you, my lord?" one asked.

"Yes," answered Denethor. "Bring me Gelidir—and some strong wine."


	43. To the dungeon

**Uncertain Fates**

As Boromir heard the guards leave, he wanted nothing more than to burst out of his hiding place and expose his father's sins. But he knew that if he wanted to find and save Faramir, he would have to wait and listen to get an even better grasp on what was happening.

Within a few moments he could hear a guard enter—and by the sound of it, he was alone.

"My lord," he began. "I have just received word that Captain Faramir has returned."

When Boromir heard those words, he was joyful but at the same time he couldn't have been more terrified; what would they do to him now that he was accused of desertion?

0-0

Denethor rose from his seat. "What did you say?" he asked in shock.

"I said, my lord that Captain Faramir has returned to the city," the guard repeated.

At that moment, Gelidir entered. "You asked to see me, my lord," he stated.

"Yes," Denethor said weakly; and then turning to the guards. "Leave us."

The guards turned and left.

The moment the large double doors closed, Denethor began to speak frantically; so frantically, that Gelidir could hardly make out what the distressed Steward was saying.

"…And now he has returned; if I do not make him pay for desertion I will seem like an unjust Steward, sparing him simply because he is my son. And yet, now that I think about it, how could I consent to my own flesh and blood suffering a painful execution!"

Gelidir was quiet in thought for a moment, and then he turned his attention back to the Steward. "Perhaps you do not have to, my lord," he simply said. "I do believe that there is a way for him to suffer a painless execution."

Denethor's eyes bored into his advisor. "What sort of execution are you talking about?" he asked sharply.

Gelidir cleared his throat before speaking again and shifted somewhat uncomfortably under his weight as his right hand rested above his left and under his chin. "Decapitation."

"Decapitation?" Denethor wasn't completely pleased with the idea.

"Yes; it is the most painless that I can think of," the advisor conceded.

Denethor sighed. "I believe that you are right, Gelidir."

"And then what are we to do with him—until…until?" he knew that he didn't even have to finish his sentence for Denethor to understand.

"He is going where all criminals are taken—the dungeon," Denethor answered wearily.

0-0

Boromir was about to burst in, but when he heard where Faramir was headed, he knew that his father would just have to wait; as he turned to flee the narrow passageway, his sheathed sword scraped across the aged wall, creating an alarming screeching sound. Boromir closed his eyes in frustration; he had to leave the secret passage…and quickly.

The son of the Steward wasted no time navigating the labyrinth-like tunnels; he had traveled through them more than once and was more familiar with them than most.

He could hear footsteps in the near distance; he guessed that it was Gelidir. But Boromir was still at an advantage, for as far as he knew, Gelidir had never been into the passageway before.

Relief swept over Boromir as he turned the last corner. Once out of the tunnel, he closed the door, preventing Gelidir from entering.

"_That was too close," _he thought to himself; but he did not dwell on his thoughts for long, because he was too busy running out of the Citadel, on his way to the dungeon.

000

"Where are you taking me?" a weak voice asked.

"You of all people should know—we citizens of Gondor look to you to uphold the laws not break them!" Hiram retorted

"Where are you taking me?" Faramir demanded; he had been blindfolded upon their return to Gondor which he still didn't understand why.

"You shall see soon enough…Captain."

Faramir could hear the commotion all around him. The commotion of citizens who saw the son of the Steward led to the dungeon like a criminal. But by the grim looks that the soldiers wore, they knew better than to interfere.

0-0

The dungeon of Minas Tirith was situated on the second level; all criminals whether they be sentenced for minor crimes or sentenced to die, were brought there.

The very smell of the place gave Faramir terrible anxiety. He had kept his emotions composed thus far, but now he had lost all hope. The air was musky and the smell of death was faint, but obvious enough to be noticed. The guards formerly led Faramir down a long hall until they came to a lone cell at the far end; Faramir could hear it opened, and then his blindfold was removed before he was shoved in and the door was locked behind him.

Faramir could hear the groans and shouts of the other prisoners; the dungeon was dark but not completely, there were a few candles at the far end so that the guards could occasionally pick one up to check on the prisoners.

Faramir's legs were so tired that he feared they would collapse beneath him; the only thing for him to sit on was an elevated wooden plank—intended to be his bed. The floor was hard and dirty and the more Faramir looked around his small dwelling place the worse he felt.

000

Boromir raced through the streets of Minas Tirith, hoping to reach his brother; he couldn't believe that Faramir had been accused of desertion without him knowing. People stared at him as though he was crazy as he raced to the second level; to the dungeon.


	44. Long awaited reunion

**Uncertain Fates**

Gelidir returned to Denethor out of breath.

"Whoever it was, they are gone, my lord," he explained.

Denethor sighed weakly; his mind was preoccupied on another matter. He stared at Gelidir intently before executing his order. "Send for the finest swordsman in all of Gondor," he said suddenly.

Gelidir nodded, knowing what Denethor meant. "And, my lord; have you set a date?"

Denethor nodded. "Yes; I want this over with as soon as possible. As soon as we have our swordsman, I would want it to be taken care of the very same day."

Gelidir nodded obediently. "With your leave my lord, I would like to leave and send word to the messengers."

"Do it," Denethor said darkly.

000

When Boromir finally reached the dungeon, two guards stopped him from entering.

"My lord, we cannot let you enter; we are afraid that the conditions…"

"Do you think that I haven't been inside a dungeon before?" Boromir snapped, all while trying to catch his breath.

"But, my lord—" the other soldier began.

"Enough! I wish to see my brother!" Boromir shouted, losing his already waning temper.

The guards stepped aside as Boromir dashed past them and headed straight into the dungeon. When he entered, he could hear the moans of doomed prisoners, long forgotten and left to die. Some stretched their bony and withered hands through the grates of the cells, trying to reach Boromir.

The Gondorian lord tried to adjust his eyes to the darkness as he peered through each cell, hoping to find Faramir. But instead, he only saw prisoners, perhaps they deserved to be there, but then again, he knew not. What he did know was that he had to find his brother and save him from a certain death.

"Faramir!" he called desperately, not caring who heard him. He only hoped that Faramir would hear his call.

0-0

The beaten Ranger sat up instantly when he heard his name being called, but not only that—he heard a familiar voice, one he thought he would never hear again. He stood up and rushed to the grates to get a better look in order to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating. He wasn't. He could see a shadow wandering helplessly, looking for someone, looking for him.

"Brother!" Faramir responded.

Boromir couldn't believe what he had heard. He was half expecting to be disappointed, but now he had indeed found his brother.

He ran in the direction of Faramir's cell but when he reached it, he could hardly believe that the man inside was his brother.

Faramir's face was still swollen due to the treatment that he had received in Mordor; his hair was dirty and matted; his eyes, once a soulful blue, but at the same time cheerful, had been dulled by sorrow and despair.

Boromir was speechless, as was Faramir for a moment, but he was the first to return to normal and speak to his brother.

"Brother, you have come for me," he said, stating the obvious.

Now more anger than shock began to set in as Boromir examined his damaged brother. "Who has done this to you!" he roared.

Faramir had actually forgotten how bad he must have looked; "Your anger is of no use, Boromir. My previous captors are far away."

Boromir's hands balled into fists. "Where have you been? Where did they take you?"

Faramir knew that there would be a time to explain what had happened, but at the moment his life was at risk. "Listen to me Boromir; there will be another time for this, but there is a much more urgent matter at hand."

Boromir could have kicked himself for letting his anger get in the way of why he really had come.

"Yes, there is; you have been accused of desertion. Something that you would die before doing; and while we speak, your execution is already being arranged," Boromir stopped to let his words sink in for a moment. He knew that it wouldn't be long before he was discovered with Faramir, and as he began to think, a slight plot formed into his mind—a plot to help Faramir escape. But in order for the plan to be executed, they couldn't do anything to rouse suspicion, or else the weak plan would crumble altogether.

Before Faramir could speak, Boromir began again. "But there is a way that I can get you out of here…even if it's just long enough for you to prove your innocence."

Faramir seemed strangely calm, especially considering his inward conflict. "I am guessing that father is the one who has signed my death warrant, but I only have one question more: how am I to die?"

Boromir shifted uncomfortably, thinking of the barbaric death that had been decided for his brother. "You will _not_ die, I am going to make sure of it," Boromir said, hoping to veer from the topic.

"Then what death is intended for me?" Faramir asked softly.

Boromir couldn't even look him in the eyes when he answered, for he wasn't and never would be at peace with his brother dying before his time. "Decapitation," he answered.

Faramir instinctively brought his left hand up to feel his neck. He stared ahead, his eyes not even focusing on Boromir. "Decapitation?"

"Yes, but it will not happen; I will not let it happen," Boromir insisted. "I will get you out of here."

"How soon?" Faramir asked.

"Tonight."

000

Gelidir wasted no time sending messengers out with the news. And it seemed that the call had almost immediately been answered, and word reached them by the evening that a swordsman from Cair Andros was willing to perform the execution. He was said to be a veteran, and so he was accepted to perform the duty.

0-0

Meanwhile in the Citadel, Boromir was completely oblivious to the current situation, for he needed to speak with Lady Éowyn.

She opened her door after he had knocked only once, and stiffly let him in. Things between the two of them had improved considering how much she had loathed him, but they still didn't act as a husband and wife should.

He walked in and waited for her to close the door. He needed her help greatly.

"My lady," he began, but didn't get past that.

"Oh, do stop with the formality. After all these months I have grown tired of hearing you call me that."

If it was under any other circumstances, Boromir would have smiled, but the matter concerned Faramir's life.

"Are we alone?" he whispered.

Éowyn nodded. "Why have you come here?" she asked.

"Because I need your help," Boromir said, walking closer to her and gently resting his hands on her shoulders. "The matter concerns my brother's life or death, and you will play an important role when it comes to deciding his fate."

Éowyn paled. She didn't even know that Faramir was back in the city. She listened in horror as Boromir, trusting her, told her everything. When he finished he stared at her, waiting for her reply and at the same time, fearing the worst.

Éowyn saw the fear in his eyes and did the most honorable thing that she could. She agreed.

"What do I have to do?" she asked fearlessly.


	45. Paths collide

_**A/N**: Hey guys! Thanks for reading and reviewing. I really didn't expect this story to do so well ; ). But all things must come to an end and well...this is the last chapter before the epilogue, so please review and let me know what you think about it.: D ; you guys can expect the epilogue on my regular posting date._

_Thnaks!_

**Jedi Knight247**

**Uncertain Fates**

While Boromir was still making his way to Éowyn's room, preparations for Faramir's death were already being made.

"Thank you, that is all," said Denethor to the messenger. When the messenger left, he opened the letter.

Gelidir, who was standing across from the Steward, stared ahead, anticipating the answer.

"He has accepted the request and is making his way here as I speak," Denethor said, finally looking up from the letter.

"I suppose that the sooner it is done, the less painful it will be," Gelidir observed, trying to make Denethor feel at least a little bit better.

"Justice must be served out, no matter who the person is," said Denethor. "But I do have one more order for you before the execution."

"Anything, my lord," Gelidir said obediently.

"I do not want the deed to be carried out publicly. Make sure that it is done in the arge dungeon."

"Will you not be present, my lord?"

"Of course I will be present," Denethor snapped. "Leave me."

Gelidir wasn't surprised at Denethor's sudden mood change—after all, one of his sons were going to be executed and he had no choice but to allow it to be carried out.

Gelidir bowed formally, and then left to make sure that a room in the dungeon was prepared so that a Captain of Gondor might die there.

000

Boromir looked around somewhat nervously. He only had one chance to save his brother's life and he didn't want anything to go wrong.

"Are you sure we're alone?" he asked.

Éowyn nodded. "Yes; now tell me what I have to do."

"I need you because when I am nowhere to be seen, I do not want to raise suspicions. I need you to say that I'm with you. They cannot know that I am elsewhere."

Éowyn looked a little puzzled. "Where will you be?"

Boromir sighed. "The less I tell you, the less you will have to lie."

Éowyn shot him an icy glare. "I am in this with you whether you like it or not; and if anything goes wrong I need to know where I can find you."

Boromir decided that there was no harm in telling her where he would be, for he hadn't even considered the scenario that she had given him.

"Where will you be?" Éowyn repeated.

Boromir gave in. "In the dungeon," he said.

Éowyn wasn't surprised—after all that was where Faramir was currently residing. "You intend to break him out," Éowyn reasoned.

Boromir didn't want to get Éowyn in trouble, for the less she knew, the less she would have to tell if it came down it. "I've already told you more than I should have. I really must be going now."

He turned to leave, but Éowyn put herself between Boromir and the door. "And where will we meet once your plan is completed?"

Boromir shook his head. "I cannot answer that. I only ask that you stay here for now; but I must go now, Faramir's life depends on it."

That was enough to make Éowyn step aside and let Boromir slip out into the night.

000

Meanwhile in Cair Andros, word of Faramir's sudden return and execution had spread. The swordsman had set out immediately after sending his letter of acceptance and was riding through the night without rest. The execution would take place only a few moments after he arrived in Minas Tirith, and now that would not be long at all.

But he was not the only one journeying in great haste to Minas Tirith. Three riders pushed their horses to their utmost limit; they knew that in order to save a Certain Gondorian lord's life, they would have to arrive before the executioner. But that was nearly impossible; yet there was still hope…hope that they could stop this unjust deed from being carried out.

000

Boromir watched and waited. He knew that the guards would be changing shifts soon, and then he would make his move.

His moment came soon enough and while the gate was unguarded he emerged from his hiding place and hid in an alcove next to where one of the guards would be standing. He had no intentions of killing a fellow Gondorian; he only hoped that they wouldn't put up that much of a fight.

Two fresh guards took up their post and Boromir waited for a moment before attacking the first. He snuck up behind the guard, muffled him and was choking him to the point where he was losing consciousness, but then the other guard noticed and drew his sword, ready to fight the shadowed attacker. It was quite dark so the soldier couldn't get a good enough look at the man to know that he was Boromir.

Boromir turned his head just in time to see the man, and landed a well aimed blow to the guard's nose, sending him staggering backwards. Boromir then loosened his grip on the unconscious guard and prepared to subdue the other one.

The guard had hit his head against the stone wall and so he was already lapsing in and out of consciousness. Out of sheer compassion, Boromir left him alone.

Then he began to search for the keys to the cells. He found them on the first guard, and without further thought, he ran into the dungeon, determined to save Faramir.

000

While Boromir was still making his way to Éowyn's room, preparations for Faramir's death were already being made.

"Thank you, that is all," said Denethor to the messenger. When the messenger left, he opened the letter.

Gelidir, who was standing across from the Steward, stared ahead, anticipating the answer.

"He has accepted the request and is making his way here as I speak," Denethor said, finally looking up from the letter.

"I suppose that the sooner it is done, the less painful it will be," Gelidir observed, trying to make Denethor feel at least a little bit better.

"Justice must be served out, no matter who the person is," said Denethor. "But I do have one more order for you before the execution."

"Anything, my lord," Gelidir said obediently.

"I do not want the deed to be carried out publicly. Make sure that it is done in the arge dungeon."

"Will you not be present, my lord?"

"Of course I will be present," Denethor snapped. "Leave me."

Gelidir wasn't surprised at Denethor's sudden mood change—after all, one of his sons were going to be executed and he had no choice but to allow it to be carried out.

Gelidir bowed formally, and then left to make sure that a room in the dungeon was prepared so that a Captain of Gondor might die there.

000

Tatiana was weary from riding, but she would not give up; she, Morwen, and Galen were living evidence of Faramir's capture. They would not be ignored.

"We are almost there, Tatiana," Morwen said, trying to encourage the Elven woman.

"Yes, we are almost there," said Galen looking up at the White City which was now within view.

000

Boromir ran to the end of the dungeon, where Faramir's cell was…only to find that it was empty. He looked around frantically, not being able to believe that he was too late.

"Faramir!" he called desperately. "Faramir!"

There was no answer.

Boromir looked through all of the other cells, only to find that Faramir wasn't in those either; he knew that he had to find Faramir; but the question was, where?

000

The large dungeon was in better condition than the one that Faramir had spent most of his time in. It was a large dungeon beyond a doubt, and much to Faramir's happiness, it was cleaner.

But Faramir doubted that Boromir would find him now that he had been moved. The guards had told him that he was to die in the dungeon in a short amount of time. Faramir now knew that the only thing that stood between him and death was the arrival of the executioner.

He only hoped that Tatiana would be able to get on with her life, for she had a long one ahead of her; the last thing he wanted was for her to grieve herself to death. And he also hoped that Boromir wouldn't kill their father for allowing the deed to be done, even though he himself was angry for he knew beyond a doubt that he was innocent.

000

The executioner approached the White City. He knew that this would be the most significant job that he had ever done…killing a lord of Gondor, but he figured that it had to be done. He just hoped that he would get paid handsomely for it.

He looked up and saw that he had reached the gates, just as the sun was beginning to rise.

000

Éowyn paced back and forth impatiently, she couldn't take it anymore. She had waited for hours and still there was no sign of Boromir or Faramir. And no one had bothered to come by and see if Boromir was with her or not. The lady had had enough. She swung her door open and set out to find Boromir and Faramir.

000

"My lord," said a guard once he had entered. "The executioner from Cair Andros has arrived. He is making his way towards the large dungeon at this very moment.

"Good," said Denethor getting up from his seat. "I suppose that I must go and witness my son's final moments.

The guard nodded. "I will escort you, my lord if you wish."

"Thank you," said Denethor. "But do not enter the dungeon—you must not enter."

000

The trio urged their horses to full gallop. It was the only way that they could make it in time. They looked up just in time to see the gates open and a man dressed in black rode through them.

They were all wondering if that was the executioner, but they were hoping to make it to the gate before it closed.

Morwen, Galen, and Tatiana were able to catch up with the executioner because he had stopped for rest even though it was brief. They had ridden all night without slowing their pace.

They managed to ride up to the gate before it closed, but now they just had to hope that the guards would let them in.

"Who are you?" A guard asked. Elves did not come to Gondor very often. "And was business do you have here?"

Galen spoke up. "We come from Cair Andros at lord Faramir's bidding—it is his dying wish."

The guard eyed them cautiously. "Very well; you will find him in the large dungeon."

"And where might that be?" Tatiana asked anxiously.

"On this level; it is the largest building, so it will be impossible for you to miss it."

They were in too much of a hurry to even so much as nod their thanks. They could see a large building from their position at the gate and so they rode off in that direction.

Boromir had just descended down to the first level. He had searched through three levels already before the thought of Faramir being in the large dungeon had occurred to him. He hastily made his way to the dungeon, not knowing that three other people were also riding there, trying so desperately to save him.

000

Denethor and his escort rode on horses to increase their speed as they descended to the first level. But no matter how fast they rode, they would not reach the dungeon before Boromir—for he had taken a shortcut.

000

When Boromir arrived at the gate of the dungeon, he was out of breath. He hoped that Faramir was there…and he hoped that he had gotten to him first.

But before he could even think of entering, the guards stopped him.

"I'm sorry, my lord," one said. "We cannot permit anyone to enter, save the Steward."

"Is lord Faramir currently residing here?" Boromir asked.

The guards looked at each other, not knowing what to say until one spoke up. 'Yes he is, my lord; but we cannot let you see him."

Boromir was determined to get to his brother. "Listen to me, my fellow Gondorians. I would intentionally cause you harm, but if you stand in my way…" he cut himself off when he heard the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned around to see two Elven women and an Elven man rush past him and make their way to the gate.

"You must let us enter," the Elven man begged.

"His life depends upon it!" Tatiana exclaimed.

Tatiana's remark made Boromir wonder if they were talking about Faramir, for no one was ordinarily executed in the large dungeon. But yet he had no time to inquire, for that information would be of no use to him; he just had to get in and save his brother.

"If you stand in my way then I will be forced to cause you harm," he continued.

Galen recognized Boromir, for he had spent a good deal of his life in Gondor.

Tatiana and Morwen were too caught up in trying to get inside to notice.

"Lord Boromir?" Galen asked.

Boromir whirled his head to the left to face the man. How did he know him by name?

"I do not know how you know me, but now is not the time," Boromir snapped.

"But my lord, I believe that we are here for the same reason."

Galen now had the attention of Boromir, Tatiana, and Morwen.

"How would you know?" Boromir asked, clearly suspicious of the stranger.

"Because we have all come in contact with Captain Faramir and we are here to prove that he is innocent."

Boromir turned deathly pale.


	46. Epilogue

**_A/N:_ **_Well, I'm afraid that this is it; thanks to all that reviewed throughout this story--and to those who didn't review, I only wish that I could thank you all personally. I hope that this ending pleases all of you, and I also hope that it answers most of your questions. Oh, and just to make one thing clear: I will NOT be writing a sequel. Thanks for reading! ; )_

**_Jedi Knight247_**

**Uncertain Fates**

**Epilogue**

Denethor rode swiftly towards the large dungeon, but the closer he got, the heavier the burden weighed on his heart. Yes, Faramir was not his favorite son by far; and yes, he loved him to a certain degree, but could he really go through with this? Could he go through with allowing his own flesh and blood to die?

Deep down Denethor knew that Faramir was innocent. Gelmir had always been known for his sneakiness; and when Marcus came with evidence that should have been enough for him to clear his son of such accusations, he turned the soldier away. Now he had mixed feelings; his heart was in conflict. He thought of Finduilas and how she would feel to know that her husband was going to kill one of their sons—and he knew deep down that Faramir was innocent. Suddenly, almost as though it was a vision, Denethor could see her face, the sorrow in her deep blue eyes. _"Don't do it Denethor; don't kill our son!"_

And then she was gone. Denethor stared at where the vision of Finduilas had been, and knew that he had to do something.

Denethor had to stop the execution.

000

Éowyn ran down to the first level; she had left her quarters in such a hurry that she had forgotten her shoes.

Her feet ached from running sp vigorously, yet she knew that she couldn't stop.

000

"How do you know my brother?" Boromir asked in complete shock.

"He was taken captive by a band of evil elves called the Shadow elves," Galen answered. "And he was with us the entire time."

"You're one of them?" Boromir growled.

"Not by choice, my lord. Morwen, Tatiana, and myself all helped him the best way that we could."

Boromir was about to say something else but stopped when he saw two black horses come to a stop merely feet from where the foursome stood.

"Father," Boromir muttered under his breath. He looked at Denethor with such bitterness; he would be the sole reason for Faramir's demise…but that didn't exclude Gelidir.

Denethor weakly dismounted from his horse and gave his escort leave. He saw Boromir and knew that he would have to face the wrath of his favorite son before he explained his change of heart.

"How can you do this father!" Boromir shouted. "How can you kill your own flesh and blood? Faramir would do anything for you father; he would _die_ to protect you!"

Denethor put his head down before looking up at Boromir. "Son, I know that you are terribly upset—"

"Upset?" Boromir roared. "I'm more than upset! Are you human, father? How else can you so emotionlessly murder you flesh and blood?"

"That is why I am human!" Denethor yelled so that his voice could be heard over Boromir's loud one. "I cannot kill my son."

His words hung in the air, and Boromir couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Father," he managed to finally say. "Are you…are you serious?"

"Yes," Denethor said. "My heart convicts me; I cannot kill my own flesh and blood," then turning to the guards he said. "Release him."

The guards stood still for a moment, not believing the sudden change in the Steward.

"You heard my father; release him!" Boromir ordered.

The guards turned and went inside to release the Captain of Gondor.

It all seemed so good to be true—too good to be true.

"And who might you be?" Denethor asked, eyeing the Elven trio coldly.

This time Tatiana spoke up. "We knew lord Faramir when he was in captivity. We were here to prove his innocence."

0-0

Faramir sat in his cell, awaiting the inevitable execution. He knew that his life was going to be over, but yet he still couldn't come to grips with it.

"_How could father do this to me? Am I not his son as much as Boromir?"_

He pushed that voice aside; he couldn't judge the Steward for picking a favorite son; but he never had any idea that Denethor didn't love him at all.

"Maybe I should have seen it," he said aloud. "But-"

He cut himself off as he saw a guard walk towards his cell. Faramir stood up. "I suppose that my time has come," he said grimly.

The guard shook his head. "No, my lord; I was sent here to free you."

Faramir's eyes widened. "To free me?"

"Yes; it is at lord Denethor's bidding."

Faramir's shock ran even deeper now, but he allowed the guard to unlock the cell door, and he stepped out a free man.

0-0

By the time Éowyn reached the large dungeon, Boromir and Denethor had already had their sorrowful father and son talk, and Tatiana, Morwen, and Galen had explained them about the Shadow Elves.

They all turned in her direction.

"Éowyn!" Boromir exclaimed, embracing her. He had forgotten that she was supposed to still be in the Citadel. "I am so glad to see you," he said.

"And I you," Éowyn replied, confused by the sight. "What happened?"

Boromir pulled away from the embrace and began to explain everything to her, but just at that moment, the dungeon door swung open and out walked Faramir. He was now a free man.

Éowyn, Morwen, Tatiana, and Galen backed away to give him a chance to reunite with Boromir and Denethor.

The first face that Faramir saw when he exited the dungeon was Denethor's. He did not see that his Elven friends were standing to his left; he only cared about speaking to his father.

Denethor did not know what to do or say when he saw how badly Faramir looked. He sent Faramir on the mission, half expecting him to not return, yet when he looked into Faramir's eyes he knew that the man still loved him, although it had to take something like this to happen for him to realize how he felt about his son.

But Denethor would still be Denethor. He had no intention of telling Faramir that part of him was expecting him to return dead, if he returned at all; and just because he realized his love for Faramir didn't mean that Boromir was no longer favored above him. Boromir would always be his firstborn, his favorite.

"Father," Faramir said, those words were barely able to escape him lips; he never thought that he would live to look upon his father's face again; and yet when he looked at Denethor, he saw grief and guilt.

"My son," Denethor replied. "I am sorry for what you have been put through due to my inability to see through Gelmir's lies."

Faramir said nothing; he knew that Denethor knew Gelmir couldn't be trusted, but he also knew that he was not about to be bitter. _"Why don't you love me as much as Boromir, father?" _he wanted to ask, but he stopped himself before he could even so much as open his mouth.

"I will see to it that Gelmir pays for his lies," Denethor said firmly. He then turned to a guard. "Find Gelmir, and see to it that he pays for his lies with his life."

"Yes, my lord," the soldier said.

All of a sudden, someone stepped out of the shadows; she had waited long enough to see her love…too long.

At the sound of someone approaching, Faramir turned to his left, and found himself face to face with Tatiana. Morwen and Galen weren't far behind.

"Tatiana," Faramir said almost breathlessly. "I thought that I would never look upon your face again."

"I knew that I would, Faramir," she replied, water coming to her eyes. "I knew I would."

After this they embraced each other and shared a warm moment.

Denethor was a little unsettled by this; he couldn't believe that his own son had fallen for an Elven woman.

Boromir and Éowyn on the other hand were exceedingly happy for Faramir and Tatiana.

"_Even through a brutal capture, Faramir was able to find love," _Boromir thought to himself.

Denethor cleared his throat loudly, therefore ending their romantic moment. "Well I suppose that we should return to the Citadel…Faramir, I will have a healer come to us, so that you can recover in a familiar dwelling place."

Before Faramir could thank Denethor, the Steward began to speak with the guard who had lead Faramir out. "Bring us a horse immediately; Faramir will collapse if he is to walk all the way up to the Citadel."

Just as Galen was about to say something, Denethor turned to face him. "In order to show my thanks to you all for coming here to prove that my son's innocence, I would appreciate it if you would join us in the Citadel."

"We would be honored, my lord," Morwen and Galen said in unison.

**May 23rd 3018 of the third age**

Around two years after Faramir's return to Gondor, two great events were in the making. First, Boromir and Éowyn had decided to renew their vows and start their marriage afresh. The second event had not happened just as yet, but it would within a matter of hours…this time, it was Boromir who was calming a nervous Faramir…

The groom to be nervously looked out of the window; he and his bride to be had both decided that a small and simple ceremony would be best, but yet he was still nervous, his hands were clammy, and he was constantly pacing.

"Brother, you must relax; nothing will go wrong," Boromir assured him. He rarely saw Faramir in this state, but he also smiled when he thought that Faramir was going to get married. He had never even considered Faramir getting married, for the man always seemed so happy when he was out in the wild, or spending time with his fellow Rangers in Henneth Annun.

Faramir ran a shaky hand through his hair; he couldn't believe that this day had finally come; it had seemed that Tatiana was the one who was fretting while they personally planned the event.

"It is almost time, brother," Boromir said, grinning. "While I am happy for you, I also pity you. It seems that you also have a strong-willed one on your hands," he chuckled at his own joke and continued to watch the spectacle play out before his eyes.

0-0

The wedding ceremony was beautiful—much to Faramir's delight, and Tatiana wore a simple wedding dress of Gondorian fashion.

Faramir still appeared nervous throughout the ceremony, and while Éowyn pitied him, she also found the situation a little comical.

Denethor was pleased with the bond that Boromir and Éowyn had formed over the last two years—especially since things got off to a dreadful start. The only thing that disappointed him was that he wasn't a grandfather as he had hoped to be.

Even though Denethor still loved Boromir more than Faramir, he did a great job at concealing it. He even gave Galen and Morwen (who were also married by now) a good house in Minas Tirith. He also relieved Gelidir of his duty, allowing him to return to his family.

Life was better than normal in Minas Tirith…it was great.

But the silent threat remained. Often soldiers and rangers would spot shadows moving along the Harad road. And those who were able to get close enough often said that they were in fact elves…as Faramir would have known all too well, but Denethor made sure that the news never reached him.

**Two Months Later…**

Things were once again unsettled in Minas Tirith, Faramir had had a rather vivid dream and sometime later Boromir had had it also, it was soon decided that Boromir would journey to Rivendell and consult the elf-lord Elrond about the matter. As he set out, the words of the dream rang in his head:

"Seek for the Sword that was broken:  
In Imladris it dwells;  
There shall be counsels taken  
Stronger than Morgul-spells.  
There shall be shown a token  
That Doom is near at hand,  
For Isildur's Bane shall waken,  
And the Halfling forth shall stand."

**THE END**


End file.
